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THE   WORLD'S   EPOCH-MAKEkS 


EDITED    BY 

OLIPHANT   SMEATON 


^^^\ 


Descartes,   Spinoza 

and  the  Ncw   Philosophy 

By  James  Iverach,  M,A.,  D.D. 


The  following  Volumes  in  this  Series  are  now  Ready  ;— 

CRANMER  AND  THE   ENGLISH    REFORMATION. 
By  A.  D.   Innes,  ]\I.A. 

WESLEY  AND    METHODISM. 

By  F.  J.  Snell,  M.A. 

LUTHER   AND   THE   GERMAN    REFORMATION. 
By  Principal  T.  M.  Lindsay,  D.D. 

BUDDHA   AND    BUDDHISM. 

By  Arthur  Lillie. 

WILLIAM   HERSCHEL  AND   HIS  WORK. 

By  James  Sime,  M.A.,  F.R.S.E. 

FRANCIS   AND   DOMINIC. 

By  Prof.  J.  Herkless,  D.D. 

SAVONAROLA. 

By  Rev.  G.  M'Hardy,  D.D. 

ANSELM   AND   HIS  WORK. 

By  Rev.  A.  C.  Welch,  M.A.,  B.D. 

MUHAMMAD   AND   HIS   POWER. 

By  P.  De  Lacy  Johnstone,  M.A.(Oxon.) 

ORIGEN   AND   GREEK   PATRISTIC   THEOLOGY. 
By  Rev.  W^illiam   Fairweather,  M.A. 

THE  MEDICI  AND  THE  ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE. 

By  Oliphant  Smeaton,  M.A. 
PLATO. 

By  Prof.  D.  G.  Ritchie,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

PASCAL  AND  THE  PORT  ROYALISTS. 

By  W^illiam  Clark,  LL.D.,  D.C.L. 

EUCLID:    HIS    LIFE   AND   SYSTEM. 

By  ThOxMAS  Smith,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

HEGEL   AND   HEGELIANISM. 

By  Prof.  R.  Mackintosh,  D.D. 

DAVID   HUME   and  his  Influence   on    Philosophy 
AND  Theology.     By  Prof.  James  Orr,  D.D. 

ROUSSEAU  and  Naturalism  in  Life  and  Thought. 
By  Prof.  \y.  H.  Hudson,  M.A. 

DESCARTES,  SPINOZA,  and  the  New  Philosophy. 
By  Prof.  James  Iver.^ch,  D.D. 


THE    WORLD'S   EPOCH-MAKERS 


Descartes^^  Spinoza- 
ana  the  New  Philosophy 


By  JAJM^ 


James  Iverach,  M.A.,  D.D. 

Professor  of  apologetics  and  Christia*!  Ethics  in  the  United  Free  Church 

College^  Aberdeen 

Author  of  '■•Is  God  Knoivable  ?"  "  Christianity  and  Evolution  " 

"  Theism  in  the  Light  of  Present  Science  and  Philosophy  "  etc. 


New  York.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons 

1904 


1  ^ 


"^ 


PREFACE 


The  aim  of  the  series  of  which  this  book  is  a  part 
has  prevented  me  from  the  discussion  of  many  topics 
which  might  have  been  profitably  treated,  had  more 
space  been  available.  I  felt,  also,  that  each  of  the  great 
thinkers  treated  in  the  book  might  have  fitly  claimed 
as  large  a  space  as  that  allotted  to  the  two.  There 
was  therefore  need  for  condensation,  and  for  the  laying 
of  emphasis  on  the  main  thoughts  of  the  systems,  to  the 
neglect  of  less  important  matters.  I  venture  to  hope 
that  the  great  contributions  of  these  great  thinkers  to 
the  inheritance  of  the  human  race  have  been  recog- 
nised in  these  pages.  It  has  been  necessary  to  neglect, 
almost  altogether,  the  more  theological  part  of  Spinoza's 
writings,  and  the  main  part  of  his  political  philosophy. 
Those  interested  in  Spinoza  will  find  the  political  side 
of  his  philosophy  set  forth  at  length,  with  great  learn- 
ing, and  with  lucidity  and  precision,  in  the  work  of 
Mr.  DufF  (Sjnnoza's  Political  and  Ethical  Philosophy, 
by  Robert  A.  Dufi",  M.A. ;  Maclehose,  Glasgow),  a  book 
which  came  into  my  hands  too  late  to  be  of  service  to 
me  in  the  preparation  of  the  present  volume. 

255909 


VI  PREFACE 

The  edition  of  the  works  of  Descartes  with  which  I 
have  worked  was  printed  at  Amsterdam  in  1663.  It 
contains  the  chief  works  of  Descartes:  the  Medita- 
tiones,  with  the  Responsiones  to  the  various  objections; 
the  Epistola  ad  Voetium ;  the  Principia  Philosophice ; 
the  Dissertatio  de  Methodo ;  and  the  Passiones  Animce. 
While  the  date  on  the  title-page  is  1663,  some  of  the 
treatises  bear  the  number  of  the  year  1664.  The 
edition  of  the  Epistolce  used  by  me  is  the  Amsterdam 
one,  printed  in  two  volumes  in  1682.  The  title-page 
says  that  some  of  these  epistles  were  written  by  the 
author  in  Latin,  and  some  in  French,  but  these  have 
been  translated  into  Latin.  It  is  not  easy  to  remember 
all  the  books  on  Descartes  and  Cartesianism  which  I 
have  read.  I  have  obtained  something  from  all  of  them. 
I  have  read  the  Histories  of  Philosophy.  Ueberweg, 
Erdmann,  Kuno  Fischer,  Windelband,  and  HofFding 
have  been  read  by  me,  and  they  help  the  student 
greatly  in  his  endeavour  to  understand  the  historical 
conditions  of  the  time  of  Descartes  and  Spinoza,  and 
the  part  which  these  thinkers  played  in  the  develop- 
ment of  human  thought.  I  have  used  the  translation 
of  Professor  Veitch  where  it  was  available.  The  volume 
on  Descartes  in  Blackwood's  Philosophical  Classics  for 
English  Readers,  written  by  Professor  MahafFy,  Dublin, 
I  have  found  to  be  most  helpful,  especially  in  the  bio- 
graphical part  of  it.  Other  works  to  which  I  am 
indebted  are  referred  to,  and  my  specific  indebtedness 
is  acknowledged  in  its  proper  place. 


PREFACE  vii 

The  edition  of  the  works  of  Spinoza  with  which  I 
have  worked  is  the  magnificent  Bi-centenary  Edition, 
edited  by  Van  Vloten  and  Land.  It  is  an  edition  which 
leaves  nothing  to  be  desired.  Most  of  the  literature 
connected  with  the  bi-centenary  celebration  of  Spinoza 
has  been  read  by  me.  Much  of  it  is  of  the  ephemeral 
sort.  But  the  books  on  Spinoza  written  by  Principal 
Caird,  Dr.  Martineau,  and  in  particular  the  great  work 
of  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  have  an  abiding  value.  To 
each  of  these  I  am  deeply  indebted.  Each  of  them 
has  his  own  point  of  view,  and  each  is  disposed  to  in- 
terpret Spinoza  in  his  own  fashion,  and,  in  particular, 
to  criticise  him  from  the  point  of  view  of  his  own 
philosophy ;  yet  there  is  in  all  of  these  writers,  and  in 
their  writings,  something  impersonal  and  objective. 
These  works  are  simply  indispensable  to  the  student 
of  Spinoza. 

Another  work  which  I  have  found  most  helpful  is 
A  Study  of  the  Ethics  of  Spinoza,  by  Harold  H. 
Joachim;  Clarendon  Press.  It  is  a  great  work,  but 
one  not  easy  to  read.  Mr.  Joachim  has  a  non-conduct- 
ing style,  yet  he  has  something  to  say;  and  if  the 
reader  has  to  wrestle  with  the  meaning,  there  is  a 
worthy  meaning  to  be  obtained,  and  it  is  well  worth 
the  toil  it  costs  to  find  it.  The  classical  article  on 
Cartesianism  in  the  Encyclopcedia  Britannica,  by  the 
Master  of  Balliol,  is  still  one  of  the  classics  on  the 
subject,  and  is  as  fresh  and  suggestive  as  ever.  I  have 
found  many  helpful  and   suggestive  thoughts  in  the 


viii  PREFACE  • 

references  made  to  Spinoza  and  Descartes  in  Dr.  Ward's 
Gift brd  Lectures,  entitled  Naturalism  and  Agnosticism. 

I  ought  also  to  refer  to  the  work  of  the  late  Pro- 
fessor Adamson  of  Glasgow,  edited  by  Professor  Sorley. 
It  is  called  The  Development  of  Modern  Philosophy. 
I  regret  that  it  did  not  come  into  my  hands  at  an 
earlier  period,  but  my  book  was  nearly  finished  before 
I  had  the  advantage  of  reading  his  most  able  exposi- 
tion of  Descartes  and  Spinoza.  To  the  work  of  Mr. 
DufF  I  have  already  referred.  I  have  frequently  used 
the  translation  of  the  Works  of  Spinoza,  by  Mr.  R.  H. 
M.  Elwes,  entitled  "  The  Chief  Works  of  Benedict  De 
Spinoza,  Translated  from  the  Latin,  with  an  Introduc- 
tion by  R.  H.  M.  Elwes.  In  two  Volumes.  London : 
George  Bell  &  Sons."  It  is  a  useful  and  competent 
work,  and  the  English  student  of  Spinoza  will  find  it 
to  be  a  great  boon. 

It  seemed  necessary  to  write  this  short  preface, 
mainly  for  the  purpose  of  acknowledging  my  obliga- 
tions. There  may  be  obligations  which  I  have  for- 
gotten, but  what  I  am  conscious  of,  I  acknowledge. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTION 

PAGK 

The  Middle  Ages — Their  Attitude  to  History — Contrast  between 
Greek  and  Latin  Theology — The  Mediaeval  View  of  God, 
Man,  and  the  World — Truth  guaranteed  by  Authority — 
Results  of  that  Attitude  of  Mind — The  Problem  of  the  New 
Philosophy — Inner  Experience  and  the  Church — Augustine — 
Certainty  of  Inner  Experience,  and  its  Function  in  the 
Middle  Ages — Conflicting  Tendencies — Aristotle— The  Influence 
of  Greek  Literature — The  Rise  of  Individualism — The  Rise  of 
the  Historical  Spirit — The  Influence  of  Geographical  and  Scien- 
tific Discoveries — The  New  Knowledge — the  Movement  of 
Emancipation 1 

CHAPTER    I 

The  New  Situation — The  New  Problems— The  Problem  of  Existence 
— The  Problem  of  Descartes — The  Family  of  Descartes — His 
Birth — His  Early  Years — His  Training — Study  of  Mathema- 
tics and  Physics — His  further  Studies — His  Military  Life — The 
Crisis  of  his  Life — Travels — Intercourse  with  Scientific  Men — 
His  Works— Residence  in  Sweden — His  Death         .         .         .21 


CHAPTER    II  

Discontent  of  Descartes  with  the  Knowledge  of  his  Time — His 
Account  of  that  Knowledge — His  four  Rules  for  Guidance — 
The  Method  of  Mathematics — Analysis  and  Synthesis — Speci- 
men of  Synthesis — Extension  of  Mathematical  Method — The 

Question  of  Descartes  and  the  Question  of  Kant — Nature  and 
ix 


CONTENTS 


PAGK 

I  Limits  of  Human  Knowledge — The  Data  of  Intelligence — 
The  two  Methods — The  Search  for  Certainty  —  Cogito,  ergo 
sum  —  Clear  and  distinct  Knowledge  —  Questions  raised  by 
the  Cartesian  Philosophy,  and  the  Answers  to  them         .        .\    37 

CPIAPTER    III 

The  Cogito,  ergo  sum — Its  meaning  for  Descartes — What  is  Thought  ? 
— Certainty  of  Intuitive  Truth — Appeal  to  the  Veracity  of  God 
— Need  of  such  Appeal,  in  regard  to  Intuitive  Truth  and  to  the 
Perception  of  External  Things — Space  and  Matter — Mind  and 
Matter — Argument  for  the  Existence  of  God — Dualism — Reality 
and  Perfection — Objective  Reality — The  Luinen  naturale — 
Causality — The  Place  of  the  Conception  of  God  in  the  Cartesian 
System 56 

CHAPTER    IV 

The  Steps  of  the  Argument  for  the  Existence  of  God — The  Know- 
ledge of  Self  gives  the  Knowledge  of  God — The  Notion  of  the 
Infinite  a  Positive  Notion — Reality  not  explicable  from  the 
notion  of  Contingent  and  Possible  Existence — What  the  Con- 
ception of  God  is — Truth  and  Error — Understanding  and  Will  , 
— Final  Cause  rejected — Relation  of  God  to  Mind  and  to  Matter 
— Cause  and  Effect — Reason  and  Consequent  .         .         .         .74 


CHAPTER    V 


The  Two  Sides  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy — Mechanism — Animal 
Automatism — Huxley — Soul  and  Body — Parallelism  or  Inter- 
action— Passion — Freedom — A  Conscious  Automaton — Sensa- 
tion and  Passion — Teleology — Modern  Forms  of  the  Cartesian 
Doctrine— Dr.  Ward 92 

r ^-\  CHAPTER    VI 

\ 

Matter — Matter  and  Motion — Quantity  of  Motion — The  First  and 

Second  Causes  —  Matter  in  abstraction  from  Mind  —  Matter 
and  Extension — Professor  Tait  on  Newton's  Laws  of  Motion — 
Criteria  of  Objective  Reality — Development  of  the  Universe 
according  to  Natural  Law — Mechanical  Evolution — Conser- 
vation of  Matter — Difficulties  connected  with  the  System — 
-Fruitfulness  of  the  main  Mechanical  Conceptions  of  Descartes  111 


CONTENTS  XI 

CHAPTER    VII 

PACK 

Problems  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy — The  Place  of  Malebranclie — 
Spinoza — His  Personality — The  Poetry  of  his  System— His 
Character — His  People— The  Aim  of  his  Philosophy — His  Birth 
— His  Training — The  Influences  Avhich  moulded  him— Separa- 
tion from  Judaism — Friends  and  Correspondents — Residence  at 
Rhynsburg  and  at  Amsterdam — His  Works — His  Manner  of 
Life— His  Death     .         .         . 130 

CHAPTER    VIII 

De  Intelledus  Emendatione — The  Search  for  a  Method — The  Rules 
of  Method — True  and  adequate  Ideas — Ideas  and  Abstractions 
— Definition — The  Understanding — Properties  of  the  Under- 
standing— General  Laws — The  Order  and  Connection  of  Ideas, 
and  the  Order  and  Connection  of  Things — Causality— Hume — 
Degi-ees  of  Knowledge — Perfect  Knowledge      .         .         .         .149 

CHAPTER    IX 

Exposition  of  Cartesian  Philosophy — A  Synthetic  Exposition  more 
Geometrico  —  Definitions  —  Axioms  —  Propositions — The  Cogi- 
tatio  Metaphysica — Ways  of  Thinking — The  four  Kinds  of  Being 
— Affections  of  Being — The  Necessary,  the  Impossible,  the 
Possible,  and  the  Contingent — Freedom  of  the  Will — Time 
and  Eternity — Good  and  Evil — The  Attributes  of  God — The 
Nature  of  Man 167 

CHAPTER    X 

The  Ethics — The  First  Two  Books — Substance — God — Proofs  of  the 
Existence  of  God — Their  Validity — Exclusion  of  Ethical  Con- 
ceptions from  Reality — The  Indeterminate — Determination — 
Power  and  Activity — Modes — Unity  and  Difference — Freedom 
and  Self-determination — Degrees  of  Reality — Natura  naturans 
and  Natura  Tiaturata — Freedom — Teleology — Substance,  Attri- 
butes, Mode— Dr.  Ward  on  Teleology 186 

CHAPTER    XI 

Application  of  the  Principles  of  the  System  to  the  Life  of  Man — 
Reply  to  the  charge  of  Atheism — Definitions — Res  Cogitans  et 


xii  CONTENTS 

PACK 

res  extensa — The  adequate  Idea — Kant  on  the  Question,  How 
Things  are  given  us — A  Science  of  Nature — Properties  of 
Matter — Parallelism — Association  of  Ideas — Knowledge — The 
three  Kinds  of  Knowledge — Suh  specie  ceternitatis — "Will  and 
Understanding — Will  and  Desire 205 

CHAPTER    XII 

The  last  Three  Books  of  the  Ethics — The  Conatus  sese  conservandi 
— Its  Meaning  and  its  Consequences — Pleasure  and  Pain — The 
Primary  Emotions  and  their  Derivatives — Description  and 
Appreciation — Ethical  Judgments  illusive — Good — Utility — 
Timeless  Causation — The  vanishing  of  Emotion — Social  Ethics 
—The  State— The  third  Kind  of  Knowledge— The  Intellectual 
Love  of  God— Immortality — Peace,  Blessedness,  and  Virtue    .  224 

Index  .        .        . 243 


DESCARTES,  SP^OZA,  AND  THE 
MW  PHILOSOPHY 


INTRODUCTION 

The  Middle  Ages — Their  Attitude  to  History— Contrast  between 
Greek  and  Latin  Theology — The  Mediaeval  View  of  God, 
Man,  and  the  World — Truth  guaranteed  by  Authority — 
Eesults  of  that  Attitude  of  Mind — The  Problem  of  the 
New  Philosophy — Inner  Experience  and  the  Church — 
Augustine — Certainty  of  Inner  Experience  and  its  Function 
in  the  Middle  Ages — Conflicting  Tendencies — Aristotle — 
The  Influence  of  Greek  Literature — The  Rise  of  Individualism 
— The  Rise  of  the  Historical  Spirit — The  Influence  of 
Geograj)hical  and  Scientific  Discoveries — The  New  Know- 
ledge— The  Movement  of  Emancipation. 

To  understand  the  New  Philosophy,  and  to  have  some 
measure  of  its  significance,  it  is  necessary  to  obtain 
some  conception  of  the  state  of  life  and  thought  during 
the  period  of  its  preparation,  and  of  the  conditions 
which  so  far  determined  it.  Some  account,  however 
brief,  must  be  given  of  the  thought  of  the  Middle 
Ages  if  we  are  to  understand  the  problem  of  Descartes, 
and  the  solution  of  it  to  which  he  came.     For,  how- 


2  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

ever  great  is  his  originality,  he  was  still  a  child  of 
his  time,  and  the  culture  of  the  past  and  the  circum- 
stances of  his  time  determined  in  a  measure  the 
questions  asked  by  him,  and  the  answers  he  was  able 
to  give  them.  It  was  a  time  of  transition,  when  the 
old  view  of  God,  of  man,  and  of  the  world  could  no 
longer  satisfy  the  inquiring  mind.  Man's  knowledge 
had  suddenly  widened.  He  had  become  aware  of  a 
culture  and  a  mode  of  life  different  from  his  own,  and 
the  literature  of  Greece  and  the  life  of  antiquity  had 
been  thrust  upon  him,  and  that  knowledge  had  raised 
many  questions  which  had  a  close  bearing  on  his  view 
of  the  world. 

As  one  reads  in  the  literature  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
one  is  struck  with  the  absence  of  any  knowledge  of 
any  kind  of  culture  and  life  save  that  which  lay  in 
the  immediate  present.  There  is  hardly  a  reference  to 
history,  and  the  Middle  Ages  seem  ignorant  of  the 
origin  of  the  religion  they  professed  and  of  the  histor- 
ical and  human  conditions  of  its  development.  Such 
inquiries,  if  they  ever  occurred  to  any  one,  were  sure 
to  be  discouraged  by  the  Church,  for  the  aim  of  the 
Church  was  ever  to  encourage  faith  in  the  divine 
origin  and  character  of  her  claims.  As  much  know- 
ledge as  would  harmonise  with  these  claims  was  per- 
mitted, and  no  more.  If  one  had  time,  an  instructive 
contrast  might  be  drawn  between  Greek  and  Latin 
theology,  regarding  the  views  set  forth  in  them  as  to  the 

\ relation  between  the  Christian  and  the  heathen  worlds. 
Greek  theology  delighted  to  find  points  of  contact 
between  the  highest  Greek  thought  and  Christian 
theology;  for  the  Middle  Ages  an  impassable  chasm 
lay   between   the    pagan   and    the    Christian   worlds. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  3 

From  the  time  of  the  separation  of  the  Eastern  and 
Western  Churches  there  was  little  intercourse  between 
them,  and  each  proceeded  on  its  own  path  of  develop- 
ment. The  Western  Church  and  the  Western  nations 
were  scarcely  touched  with  any  culture,  and  were 
little  influenced  by  any  outside  forces.  They  unfolded 
their  own  dogmas ;  the  nations  lived  their  life,  fought 
their  battles,  and  pursued  their  destinies,  unaware  of 
the  fact  that  men  had  lived  on  the  earth  for  a  long 
time,  and  had  achieved  something  of  worth  during  the 
past  ages  of  the  world. 

The  system  of  the  Roman  Church  and  of  the  Roman 
world  was  bound  up  with  a  limited  view  of  the  world 
and  with  a  partial  view  of  man.  Looking  back  at  the 
course  of  development  from  the  time  of  Augustine,  the 
ereat  teacher  of  the  Western  Church,  to  the  time  of  the 
Renaissance,  we  observe  that  the  content  of  ancient 
human  achievement,  which  was  alive  and  fruitful  in 
the  Middle  Ages,  was  just  as  much  of  it  as  was 
embodied  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Christian  Church, 
and  approved  of  by  ecclesiastical  authority.  No  doubt 
there  was  much  in  the  doctrines  that  could  feed  the 
human  spirit,  and  fit  it  for  a  right  kind  of  life.  But 
the  attitude  of  mind  that  questions,  scrutinises,  doubts, 
and  longs  for  certainty,  the  spirit  that  seeks  for  truth 
and  wants  a  rational  guarantee  fort^^,ru.tkof  thnng^hiiy 
was  discoura^djantil  i^  alm9st  vanished^  Truth  was 
given — it  was  guaranteed  by  revelation  and  made  sure 
by  the  authority  of  the  Church ;  the  dogmas  were  not 
to  be  questioned;  the  whole  duty  of  the  inquirer 
consisted  in  showing  the  inner  harmony  and  logical 
connection  of  the  dogmas  each  to  each,  and  to  arrange 
them  in   a  system.     Here,   too,   was   abundant   work 


4  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

for  ardent  spirits ;  and  how  great  was  the  intellectual 
power  exercised  in  this  work,  and  how  subtile  were 
its  speculations,  are  well  known  to  the  reader  in 
scholastic  philosophy. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  regard  the  Middle  Ages  as  a 
period  of  utter  darkness,  nor  as  a  period  conspicuous 
by  the  absence  of  the  power  of  thought  or  of  specu- 
lation. The  thought  of  these  times  was  a  thought 
within  limits.  It  was  not  a  time  when  men  allowed 
themselves  to  search  for  the  foundations  of  their 
beliefs,  nor  to  inquire  into  the  validity  of  their  funda- 
mental thoughts.  The  main  strands  of  their  thoughts 
were  there,  given  to  them;  their  truthfulness  was 
guaranteed  to  them  by  the  authority  of  the  Church, 
and,  for  the  most  part,  no  one  ever  thought  of  ques- 
tioning their  truth  or  validity.  These  dogmas  might 
be  of  such  a  character  as  to  startle  human  intelli- 
gence, they  might  in  their  essential  nature  be  such  as  to 
pass  the  limits  of  human  intelligence,  but  that  fact  was 
regarded  as  a  testimony  of  the  ineffable  character  of 
the  source  from  which  they  flowed.  It  is  evident  that 
the  habit  of  looking  at  truth  as  given,  as  a  something 
to  be  implicitly  accepted  and  believed,  must  be  pro- 
ductive of  a  peculiar  habit  of  mind.  It  will  develop, 
on  the  one  hand,  great  analytic  keenness  of  thought 
in  the  unfolding  of  the  contents  of  a  thought  or  a 
dogma,  the  truth  of  w^hich  is  accepted  as  unquestioned ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  will  help  to  starve  and 
paralyse  all  these  aptitudes  of  the  human  mind  which 
are  fostered  by  synthetic  work.  In  such  circumstances 
knowledge  tends  to  become  merely  verbal,  and  such 
was  largely  the  wisdom  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

After  all,  perhaps,  as  a  training-place  for  the  human 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  5 

spirit  at  that  stage  of  its  development,  no  fitter  school 
could  be  found  than  that  of  the  Church,  with  her  unity, 
her  organisation,  her  teaching,  and  her  authority.  The 
limitations  of  her  own  culture,  and  the  stern  way  in 
which  all  that  was  opposed  to  her  life  and  doctrine 
was  excluded,  rendered  her  task  of  education  more 
easy.  The  positive  elements  of  truth  in  her  creed,  on 
which  she  strenuously  insisted,  were  of  great  import- 
ance for  her  educative  mission.  It  was  of  great 
importance  for  the  young  nations  of  the  West  and 
North  to  have  impressed  on  them  a  sense  of  the  unity 
lying  at  the  basis  of  things,  and  of  a  unity  of  purpose 
running  through  the  ages.  They  had  lived  in  isolated 
particularism  ;  their  thoughts  of  man  and  of  the  world 
and  of  God  were  such  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  them 
to  reach  any  oneness  in  any  sphere.  On  the  religious 
side  polytheism  had  been  their  heritage  from  the  past, 
and  if  they  had  ever  had  any  glimpses  of  a  divine  unity 
these  had  been  few  and  far  between,  limited  to  a  few, 
and  had  been  insufficient  to  raise  them  above  the 
seeming  multiplicity  of  the  divine.  To  them  the 
message  of  the  Church,  with  its  constant  insistence 
on  the  divine  oneness,  was  a  revelation,  and  a  deliver- 
ance. It  is  a  gain  to  reach  unity  in  any  sphere  of 
thought,  and  a  gain  of  special  significance  to  be  able  to 
think  of  the  unseen  as  one,  with  all  its  phenomena  in 
one  hand,  and  ruled  by  one  purpose.  This  gain  was 
given  to  these  young  nations  by  the  Church.  It  was 
an  advantage,  also,  that  it  was  given  with  unfaltering 
assurance  of  its  truth;  and  the  claim  that  this  truth 
was  one  divinely  guaranteed  was  of  immense  import- 
ance in  making  the  people  feel  its  truth,  if  they  could 
not  think  it. 


6  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

It  was  given  to  them  in  a  most  authoritative  way. 
There  is  a  stage  of  human  culture,  both  in  the  indi- 
vidual and  in  the  race,  during  which  truth  can  be  best 
given  and  received  in  this  authoritative  fashion.  Not 
a  spirit  of  investigation,  nor  of  questioning,  nor  of 
search,  but  a  receptive  spirit  ready  to  receive  what 
is  taught,  to  understand  it,  and  to  arrange  it  in 
systematic  order  was  the  characteristic  of  the  Church 
herself,  and  it  was  the  characteristic  of  the  training 
she  gave  to  the  peoples  under  her  care.  She  had  much 
to  teach  them  in  all  spheres  of  human  activity.  As 
we  have  already  said,  she  had  a  message  about  God 
and  His  relations  to  man  and  to  the  world  which  was 
more  excellent  than  any  they  had  ever  heard  of,  or 
conceived.  She  had  to  tell  them  of  life  and  duty,  of 
the  present  and  of  the  future,  of  sin  and  salvation,  and, 
if  she  had  not  then  conceived  or  understood  the  full 
meaning  of  her  message,  she  was  able  to  give  them 
what  would  help  to  mould  their  character  and  shape 
their  life,  and  guide  them  onwards  to  the  fuller 
national  life  of  the  future.  The  most  fruitful  way  of 
looking  at  the  Middle  Ages  is  this  of  regarding  them 
as  the  time  of  the  educating  of  the  European  peoples 
for  their,  future  destiny.  Themselves  altogether  un- 
scientific, and  only  theological,  the  Middle  Ages  pre- 
pared the  world  for  that  modern  view  of  the  world 
with  which  science  has  made  us  familiar.  The  mono- 
theistic character  of  the  creed  of  the  Church  laid  stress 
on  the  fundamental  thought,  that  there  was  only  one 
cause  of  all  things ;  and  that  led  to  the  further  thought, 
that  as  there  was  only  one  cause  so  there  was  one 
method  of  working,  and  that  all  things  were  connected 
together  according  to  law.     The  ongoing  of  the  world 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  7 

must  in  some  way  correspond  to  the  oneness  of  the 
cause.  Thus  the  monotheistic  creed  contained  within 
itself  the  notion  of  a  world  of  order,  a  world  ruled  by- 
law, and  this  is  the  fundamental  postulate  of  science. 

It  is  not  our  purpose  to  trace   the   movements   of 
thought  in  the  Middle  Ages,  nor  to  dwell  at  length  on 
the  characteristics  of   that  interesting  and   formative 
period.     We  desire  simply  to   obtain   such  a  view  of 
them  as  will   help  us  to  understand  the  problem  set 
to  the  new  philosophy.     It  helps  us  to  understand  thall 
problem  when  we   recognise  that   all  the  knowledge  | 
which  the  Middle  Ages  thought  they  possessed  rested  | 
on   foundations   that   had   never   been   looked   at,   on  • 
assumptions  that  had  never  been  tested,  and  on  pre-i 
suppositions  that  had  never  been  sifted.     The  materi^ 
also,  which  they  were  in  possession  of,  as  the  subjects 
on  which  they  were   to  philosophise,   were   most  in- 
adequate.    On   this   I   shall   speak   a  little  later.     At 
present  I  say  only  that  almost  all   that  we   call   the 
sciences   was   not   at  their  command,  and  what  they 
called  science  was  for  the  most  part  erroneous.     Yet 
what  marvellous  subtility  of  thought,  what  acuteness, 
what  formal  completeness  of  exposition  meet  us  in  the 
scholastic  philosophy.     A  skill  in  drawing  distinctions, 
a  power  of  elaborating  arguments,  and  a  deftness  in 
drawing  conclusions  from  appropriate  premises,  meet 
us  in  their  pages  such  as  we  scarcely  meet  anywhere 
else  in  the  history  of  human  thought.     It  is  a  pity,  we 
sometimes  think,  that  human  faculty  of  so  exquisite 
a  sort  should  have  been  thus  wasted.     But  were  these 
powers    wasted?      Was    the    Greek  effort    spent    in 
elaborating   the   mathematics   of    the    conic    sections 
wasted  ?     Verily,  it  was  not.     Nor  was  the  scholastic 


8  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

effort  wasted,  though  it  produced  so  few  measurable 
results.  It  was  a  discipline  of  the  human  mind,  it 
w^as  the  preparation  of  the  human  mind,  and  helped 
to  develop  powers  which  could  be  profitably  exercised 
in  dealing  with  the  material  to  be  won  by  the  scientific 
spirit  in  the  ages  to  come. 

The  critical  ingenuity,  the  argumentative  power, 
and  the  analytic  skill  perfected  in  dealing  with  the 
scanty  material  at  the  command  of  the  Middle  Ages 
were  ready  for  the  work  of  investigating  precisely 
these  presuppositions  which  had  remained  unquestioned 
by  them.  They  were  ready  also  for  the  purpose  of 
co-ordinating,  systematising,  and  of  dealing  generally 
with  the  larger  fruits  of  human  experience,  as  that 
experience  was  enriched  by  the  gains  won  by  scientific 
effort.  The  Middle  Ages  may  be  said  to  have  trained 
the  mind  of  man  for  the  greater  and  successful  effort  of 
the  modern  time. 

But  the  service  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  the  progress 
of  humanity  was  not  limited  to  the  mere  training  of 
the  mind  of  man  in  logical  dexterity  and  precision. 
They  had  something  which  had  no  recognised  place 
in  ancient  thought.  They  received  from  Augustine 
the  two  fundamental  conceptions,  which  they  elaborated 
in  a  remarkable  way.  One  conception  was  the  im- 
mediate certainty  of  inner  experience,  and  the  other 
was  the  conception  of  the  Church.  In  his  doctrine  of 
the  certainty  of  inner  experience  Augustine  anticipated 
the  method  of  Descartes.  Doubt  implied  the  existence 
of  the  doubter;  for  if  I  doubt,  I  know  that  I,  the 
doubter,  am.  This  was  for  Augustine  the  starting- 
point  of  all  knowledge.  He  recurs  to  it  again  and 
again,  and  expositions  of  it  occur  frequently  in  his 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  9 

works.  His  second  great  doctrine  was  the  conception 
of  the  Church,  and  in  that  doctrine  there  lay  the  germs 
of  full-blown  Hildebrandism.  The  unfolding  of  Aug- 
ustine's doctrine  of  the  certainty  of  inner  experience, 
along  with  the  Christian  estimate  of  the  eternal  worth 
of  man,  led  the  Middle  Ages  to  make  that  advance  on 
the  thought  of  Greece  which  has  only  come  to  full 
fruition  in  the  modern  philosophical  doctrine  of  per- 
sonality. The  inner  life  of  man  was  the  absorbing- 
interest  of  the  Middle  Ages,  controlled  only  by  the 
interests  and  the  authority  of  the  Church.  Nor  were 
these  two  tendencies  always  consistent  with  each  other. 
The  interests  of  the  inner  life  must  be  consistent  with 
the  larger  interests  of  the  Universal  Church.  To  the 
Greek  the  interest  of  the  inner  life  was  limited  to  its 
relation  with  the  outer  life  of  the  world,  and  specially 
to  the  relation  to  the  life  of  the  State.  But  to  the 
Middle  Ages  had  come  the  conception  of  the  Church 
with  its  far-reaching  power,  and  its  claims  to  control 
the  life  that  now  is,  and  that  which  is  to  come.  No 
doubt  the  eternal  fate  of  a  man  was  determined  by  the 
character  of  the  inner  life.  No  doubt,  also,  the  future 
depended  on  the  growth  of  the  inner  life.  While  this 
conviction  swayed  the  wliole  religious  life  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  it  was  controlled  by  the  other  conviction  that 
the  inner  life  could  flourish  and  grow  only  as  it  was 
fed,  guided,  and  controlled  by  the  larger  life  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  The  Church  would  not  permit  the 
inner  life  of  man  to  grow  after  its  own  fashion.  Hence 
the  watchfulness  of  its  attitude  with  regard  to  the 
mystic  tendencies  of  the  time.  Mystic  self -absorption 
tended  to  withdraw  men  from  the  control  of  the 
Church,  and  to  give  them  a  relation  with  the  Divine 


10  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

not  mediated  by  the  Church,  and  consequently  it  was 
discouraged  and,  if  necessary,  condemned.  Mysticism 
was  allowed,  but  only  so  far  as  it  was  consistent  with 
the  interests  of  the  Church.  Still,  the  fact  remained 
that,  whether  directly  or  indirectly,  the  human  spirit 
believed  that  it  had  fellowship  with  the  Divine,  and 
that  fellowship  could  only  be  maintained  through  the 
growth  of  the  inward  life.  Inner  experience  led  men 
to  see  that  the  spiritual  world  was  as  much  a  reality 
as  the  material  world. 

Man  grew  accustomed  to  look  at  himself  from  an 
eternal  point  of  view.  He  was  able  to  place  the  rich 
contents  of  the  inner  life,  enriched  as  it  was  by  a  great 
religious  experience,  over  against  the  external  world, 
and  thus  a  way  was  prepared  for  a  more  thorough 
scrutiny  of  that  larger  world  which  would  include  in 
itself  these  aspects  of  reality.  The  stress  laid  on  the 
reality  of  spiritual  experience,  and  the  emphasis  laid  on 
the  continued  existence  of  the  man,  were  elements  in 
the  education  of  man  of  quite  unique  value. 

Just  as  in  the  inner  life  of  experience  regard  was 
ever  had  to  the  authority  of  the  Church,  so  in  the 
development  of  mediaeval  thought  the  Church  had 
a  ruling  influence,  and  every  tendency  that  seemed 
to  oppose  her  doctrine  was  sternly  repressed.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  follow  the  course  of  development,  nor 
to  enter  into  the  controversy  between  Nominalism  and 
Realism,  nor  to  take  sides  as  to  the  primacy  of  the 
Will  or  the  Intellect,  nor  to  say  anything  as  to  the 
boundaries  of  the  kingdoms  of  Nature  and  of  Grace, 
on  all  of  which  a  great  deal  was  written  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  Nor  need  we  look  at  the  contests  between  Church 
and  State  as  these  were  conducted  in  the  nations  of 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  ii 

the  West.  Nor  can  we  say  anything  on  the  ethical 
problems  keenly  agitated  from  time  to  time,  which  are 
not  without  interest  and  significance  to-day. 

Something  must  be  said,  however,  on  the  relation  of 
the  Church,  with  her  beliefs  and  practice,  to  the  world 
of  nature,  and  how  she  dealt  with  the  views  of  the 
world  which  came  to  her  largely  through  the  Arabian 
philosophy,  and  finally  through  the  recovered  works 
of  Aristotle.  It  is  curious  to  reflect  on  the  position 
which  Aristotle  came  to  hold  in  the  Catholic  Church, 
and  still  holds.  Of  course,  the  teachings  of  Aristotle 
must  be  made  to  agree  with  the  presuppositions  of  the 
Church.  A  study  of  the  works  of  Aristotle,  as  we  now 
have  them,  reveals  the  fact  that  it  would  need  great 
ingenuity  to  reconcile  them  with  the  dogmas  of  the 
mediaeval  Church.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  were 
not  reconciled.  They  are  mostly  side  by  side,  and 
are  not  mediated  at  all.  The  monism  of  Aristotle 
becomes  a  dualism  in  the  hands  of  the  schoolmen. 
In  fact,  all  along  the  line  a  criticism  of  the  scholastic 
philosophy  reveals  the  fact  that  there  is  a  fundamental 
difference  between  the  Aristotle  of  Greece  and  the 
Aristotle  of  the  schools.  But  even  the  philosophy 
of  the  schools  cannot  be  made  consistent  with  itself, 
for  what  they  take  from  Aristotle  is  in  contradiction 
with  their  own  presuppositions.  But  the  scholastic 
philosophy  had  a  rooted  objection  to  any  process  of 
investigation  which  might  lay  bare  the  foundations 
on  which  the  edifice  of  their  thought  was  built  up. 

The  principles  borrowed  from  Aristotle,  even  as 
modified  by  the  scholastic  philosophy,  contained  ele- 
ments which  in  the  long  run  were  certain  to  exercise 
a  disruptive  influence  on  the  composite  structure.     The 


12  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

explosion  was  destined  to  be  all  the  more  destructive 
the  longer  it  was  postponed.  It  came  at  last,  and  it 
was  all  the  wider  in  its  range  because  the  principle  of 
authority  itself  was  involved  in  the  crisis.  If  a  system 
based  on  authority  is  ever  questioned,  and  if  men  are 
driven  to  doubt  the  sufficiency  and  adequacy  of  the 
system,  it  is  not  the  system  alone  that  is  overthrown ; 
the  principle  of  authority  also  is  likely  to  be  ques- 
tioned. This  was  the  result  as  regards  the  system 
of  media3val  thought,  which  ceased  to  commend  itself 
to  many  peoples  because  of  the  movement  we  call  by 
the  names  of  the  Renaissance  and  the  Reformation. 
The  Church  had  debarred  men  from  any  investigations 
of  her  presuppositions.  It  committed  itself  to  the  truth 
of  the  system.  It  is  perilous  to  the  very  interests  of 
authority  to  commit  itself  to  propositions  open  to  ques- 
tion. Authority  has  often  tried  to  stop  the  process  of 
investigation,  and  it  has  always  failed,  and  deserved  to 
fail.  No  doubt  authority  has  its  legitimate  sphere  of 
influence,  but  it  has  no  place  in  the  ordered  process 
of  human  knowledge,  nor  any  right  to  step  in  between 
human  knowledge  and  its  goal. 

Human  knowledge  increased  by  leaps  and  bounds, 
and  every  increase  of  knowledge  made  the  rupture 
with  scholasticism  more  inevitable.  The  scholastic 
philosophy  contained  in  itself  the  seeds  of  its  own 
dissolution,  as  the  history  of  it  abundantly  proves. 
But  the  internal  incompatibilities  in  its  system  of 
thought  become  more  clear  when  the  pressure  of  the 
new  knowledge  began  to  tell  on  it.  The  philosophy 
of  the  Middle  Ages  was  not  flexible  enough  to  receive 
the  new  ferment  which  aroused  the  minds  of  men 
when  they  began  to  study  the  works  of  Greek  thinkers 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  13 

/  which  were  rediscovered  in  the  fifteenth  century.  A 
/  new  stream  of  culture  flowed  from  Byzantium,  and, 
I  reaching  Florence  and  Rome,  speedily  reached  Ger- 
many, France,  and  England,  and  wherever  it  appeared 
it  called  forth  a  spirit  of  opposition  to  scholasticism. 
The  knowledge  of  Greek  at  first  hand  caused  students 
to  be  resolutely  opposed  to  the  mediaeval  interpre- 
tation of  Greek  philosophy;  a  knowledge  of  Greek 
method,  with  its  criticism,  made  them  impatient  of 
a  method  of  deduction  from  assumptions  unverified, 
unsifted,  and  uncriticised,  received  from  mere  authority. 
The  living  beauty  of  Greek  literature  made  men  tired 
of  the  pedantic  stiffness  of  monastic  thought.  In 
fact,  in  all  departments  of  human  thought,  the  restored 
Greek  literature  was  like  new  wine  with  the  proverbial 
influence  on  old  bottles. 

Still  more,  the  quickening  effect  of  that  great  liter- 
ature was  not  limited  to  the  effort  to  assimilate  and  to 
understand  it.  It  quickened  the  minds  of  men,  filled 
them  with  curiosity,  and  made  them  look  at  themselves 
and  the  world  with  new  eyes.  What  is  the  world? 
and  what  is  man  ?  and  what  is  man's  position  in  the 
cosmos  ?  Questions  these  which  had  an  answer  in  the 
mediaeval  system,  but  these  answers  were  soon  found 
to  be  inadequate.  Man  began  to  discover  himself,  and 
^  began  to  claim  the  right  to  live  his  own  life,  to  think 
his  own  thought,  to  work  out  his  own  systems,  and 
work  them  out  to  their  inevitable  conclusions.  The 
Church  had  claimed  to  rule  the  world,  and  to  bind 
men.  She  gave  them  truth  infallibly  guaranteed,  and 
human  effort  ought  to  be  directed  only  towards  its 
assimilation.  But  the  Renaissance  started  from  another 
presupposition.     Man,  the  individual,  sprang  into  view, 


14  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

— man,  in  his  immeasurable  natural  freedom,  who  had 
the  right  to  live,  and  to  live  according  to  nature.  So 
the  Renaissance  loved  to  dwell  on  man,  his  greatness, 
his  glory,  his  genius,  and  his  power.  It  had  all  the 
strength  of  a  reaction  against  the  repressive  power 
of  medisevalism,  and  all  the  riotous  energy  of  being, 
freshly  emancipated,  and  drunk  with  the  sense  of 
freedom  and  of  power.  It  was  the  apotheosis  of  the 
natural  man.  It  was,  no  doubt,  extravagant,  one-sided, 
and  exaggerated;  but  it  vindicated,  once  for  all,  the 
right  of  the  individual  to  use  his  own  eyes,  to  look  at 
himself  and  the  world  for  himself,  and  to  face  the 
problems  of  existence  for  himself.  Happily,  it  is  not 
necessary  for  our  purpose  to  characterise  the  Renais- 
sance, nor  to  appraise  its  achievement.  It  is  done  to 
our  hands  by  many  writers,  so  well  known  that  we 
do  not  require  to  name  them.  The  Renaissance  is  the 
first  step  towards  the  discovery  of  the  individual,  and 
when  the  individual  is  discovered  we  have  taken  the 
first  and  necessary  step  towards  a  discovery  of  society 
— a  discovery  which  is  yet  to  come. 

The  movement  went  on  for  some  time  before  it 
became  conscious  of  itself  and  its  tendency.  It  was 
only  by  slow  degrees  that  the  Church  became  con- 
scious of  the  fundamental  opposition  between  her 
system  and  the  new  learning.  Many  things  helped 
to  prolong  this  period  of  unconsciousness.  Many  of 
high  standing  in  the  Church  had  drunk  deeply  of  the 
spirit  of  the  Renaissance.  Further,  many  in  the  Church 
did  not  take  the  Church  and  her  system  seriously,  and 
it  took  some  time  to  bring  the  opposition  into  clear 
consciousness.  It  was  in  the  domain  of  nature  know- 
ledge that  the  opposition  became  clear  to  both  parties. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  15 

Once  realised  at  any  point,  it  soon  became  apparent 
that  the  new  view  of  the  world  was  opposed  to  the 
old  at  every  point  where  they  touched.  To  the  Re- 
naissance, history  and  a  view  of  history  as  a  real 
process  in  the  world  became  possible.  There  was  a 
life  beyond  the  horizon  drawn  by  the  Church.  As 
they  studied  the  literature  of  Greece  the  men  of  the 
Renaissance  felt  that  they  had  relations  not  only  to 
the  present ;  they  were  closely  akin  to  the  peoples  of 
antiquity.  To  the  Renaissance  we  owe  the  first  be- 
ginning of  the  historical  view  of  the  world,  which  is 
the  leading  view  of  the  science  and  philosophy  of  our 
time. 

Along  with  the  discovery  of  the  history  of  the  world 
in  time  went  the  discovery  of  the  world  in  space.  Men 
came  to  have  a  more  adequate  knowledge  of  the  world 
in  which  they  lived.  Geographical  knowledge  had 
greatly  widened.  Through  the  Crusades,  through  the 
travels  of  such  men  as  Marco  Polo,  through  the  dis- 
covery of  America,  through  the  discovery  of  the  route 
to  India  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  in  other  ways, 
man  came  to  have  a  juster  conception  of  the  form  of 
the  world  in  which  he  lived.  It  was  difficult  to  recon- 
cile the  larger  geographical  view  of  the  earth  with 
that  which  had  been  the  authoritative  teaching.  But 
the  issue  was  not  clear.  The  new  knowledge  might  be 
regarded  as  an  extension  of  the  old,  and  it  was  not  felt 
to  be  in  contradiction  with  it.  But  the  issue  became 
clear  when  the  cosmical  position  of  the  earth,  and  its 
place  and  position  among  the  other  bodies  in  the 
cosmos,  became  a  matter  of  knowledge.  It  was  possible 
to  widen  the  mediaeval  view  of  history  and  to  find  a 
place  in  it  for  the  human  race.     It  was  also  possible 


1 6  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

to  extend  the  geographical  view  so  as  to  include  the 
various  seas  and  continents  of  the  earth,  without 
flagrant  contradiction  of  the  received  view.  But  the 
geocentric  and  the  heliocentric  views  of  the  earth  could 
not  be  reconciled. 

The  naive  view  of  the  universe,  as  it  appears  to  sense, 
placed  the  earth  in  the  centre  of  the  sphere,  and  made 
the  planets  revolve  round  it  in  circles.  Not  to  touch 
on  the  systems  set  forth  in  ancient  Greek  thought,  the 
Aristotelian  theory  of  the  world  was  based  on  the 
geocentric  conception  of  the  earth,  and  on  the  doctrine 
of  the  spheres.  So  great  was  the  influence  of  the  latter 
on  human  thought  that  even  yet  we  hear  of  "  the  music 
of  the  spheres."  The  final  form  of  the  ancient  theory 
is  found  in  the  work  of  the  astronomer  Ptolemy, 
elaborated  in  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era. 
Into  the  particulars  of  the  theory  it  is  not  necessary 
to  enter.  It  suffices  to  say  that  the  fundamental 
presupposition  is,  that  the  planets  move  round  the 
earth,  and  that  the  earth  is  the  centre  of  the  universe. 
On  this  view  it  was  gradually  found  impossible  to  make 
the  facts  square  with  the  theory.  New  and  more  com- 
plex hypotheses  were  evolved  to  account  for  the  facts ; 
epicycles  were  heaped  on  epicycles  until  all  thoughts  of 
simplicity  were  lost,  and  it  began  to  dawn  on  the  people's 
mind  that  they  were  on  a  wrong  track.  Step  by  step 
a  new  conception  took  the  place  of  the  old ;  one  step 
was  taken  by  Tycho  de  Brahe  and  a  greater  step  was 
taken  by  Copernicus,  and  the  edifice  was  crowned  by 
Newton,  who  was  able  to  state  in  simple  form  the  law 
that  matter  attracts  directly  as  the  masses,  and  inversely 
as  the  square  of  the  distance.  Newton  was  able  to 
prove   that  the  movements  of  the  planets  were  con- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  17 

sequences  of  the  law  of  gravitation.  Nor  should  the 
name  of  Kepler  be  omitted  from  the  list  of  those  who, 
in  this  field,  widened  the  bounds  of  human  know- 
ledge, and  enabled  men  to  have  a  view  of  the  unity  of 
the  physical  universe.  It  was  a  great  work  that  was 
done  in  the  sphere  of  astronomy.  For  it  shows  us  the 
human  mind  going  back  on  its  earliest  and  most  in- 
veterate preconceptions,  submitting  them  to  a  critical 
examination,  and  discarding  them  as  delusions  because 
they  had  ceased  to  give  a  true  and  adequate  interpreta- 
tion of  experience.  It  is  no  wonder  that  Kant  rejoiced 
to  compare  his  own  critical  method  with  the  method  of 
Copernicus.  The  abiding  lesson  for  thought  is,  that 
thought  to  be  fruitful  must  reflect  not  only  on  its 
objects,  but  also  on  its  own  point  of  view,  and  must 
be  prepared  to  criticise  at  frequent  intervals  its  own 
procedure. 

The  bearing  of  this  on  the  theory  of  the  universe 
held  and  upheld  by  the  Church  was  soon  manifest. 
The  dogmatic  authority  of  the  Church  was  involved  in 
the  maintenance  of  the  mediaeval  view  of  the  world. 
It  had  on  its  side  the  witness  of  the  senses  and  the 
authority  of  antiquity.  The  teaching  of  the  Church 
was  identified  in  the  closest  manner  with  the  system 
of  Aristotle  and  with  the  Ptolemaic  astronomy.  Nay 
more,  it  seemed  to  have  the  authority  of  Scripture. 
"  The  two  fit  each  other  as  scene  and  action :  the  earth, 
the  centre  of  the  world ;  the  appearance  of  God  on  the 
earth ;  the  Church,  the  CiviTAS  Dei  on  earth,  the  centre 
of  humanity ;  hell  under  the  earth,  heaven  above  it ; 
the  damned  in  hell,  the  saved  in  heaven  beyond  the 
stars,  where  the  orders  of  the  heavenly  hierarchy 
ascend  to  the  throne  of  God.     The  whole  structure  of 


1 8  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

limited  and  local  conceptions  totters  and  tumbles'  as 
soon  as  the  earth  ceases  to  be  the  centre  of  the  universe 
and  heaven  its  dome"  (Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes  and 
his  School,  Eng.  trans,  p.  133). 

Thus  the  opposition  between  the  ecclesiastical  and 
the  Copernican  systems  was  complete  and  thorough- 
going. As  time  went  on  and  the  new  science  grew 
from  more  to  more,  men  on  both  sides  became  conscious 
of  the  breach.  Yet,  when  one  thinks  of  it,  it  was  not 
a  conflict  between  faith  and  knowledge,  or  between^ 
religion  and  science :  it  was  a  conflict  between  science 
proven  inadequate,  grown  old  and  feeble,  and  science 
in  its  fresh  youth  and  vigour.  The  pity  of  it  was  that 
the  ecclesiastical  system  clung  to  that  which  was 
superannuated  and  treated  it  as  of  authority,  and 
committed  to  it  the  issues  of  the  present  and  the 
future.  An  untenable  position  was  maintained  by 
methods  which  might  have  a  temporary  success,  with 
more  fatal  consequences  in  the  time  to  come. 

Of   greater  importance  than   the  discoveries  which 

had  been  made,  and  the  wider  knowledge  which  had 

been  won,  was  the  awakening  of  the  human  spirit,  and 

the  claim  it  made  to  look  at  itself  and  at  the  world 

I     apart  from   presuppositions,  and  with    the   strenuous 

I)  determination  to  see  self  and  the  world  really  as  they 

were.     This  is  the  very  spirit  of  the  New  Philosophy. 

It  did  not  begin  with  Descartes,  though  he  was  one  of 

its  chief  exponents.     It  was  present  in  the  humanists ; 

it  ruled  in  Copernicus,  Galileo,  and  the  other  precursors 

of  the  New  Philosophy.     There  is  no  more  interesting 

chapter  in  human  history  than  this  of  the  awakening 

/of  the  human  spirit  to  the  greatness  of  man  and  the 

jmagnificence  of  the  world.     The  ecclesiastical  authority 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  19 

was  powerless  to  stem  the  rising  tide.  Science  and 
philosophy  claimed  their  rights,  and  in  the  long  run 
they  won  the  victory.  If  they  won  it  at  the  expense 
of  ecclesiastical  authority,  in  the  mediaeval  conception  of 
it,  they  won  it  also  to  the  lasting  gain  of  real  religion 
and  true  theology. 

The  right  to  look  at  the  self  and  world  apart  from 
the  presuppositions  of  the  ruling  system  must  soon  be 
inevitably  claimed  also  in  the  sphere  of  religion.  The 
great  deliverance  was  the  work  of  religion.  For  the 
most  part  the  great  leaders  in  Humanism  and  in  Science 
were  content  to  let  the  ecclesiastical  system  alone. 
They  were  engrossed  with  their  own  work,  and  scarcely 
realised  that  they  were  in  opposition  to  the  system  of 
the  Church.  The  religion  of  the  Middle  Ages  was  to 
believe  what  the  Church  taught,  to  worship  in  the 
forms  prescribed  by  the  Church,  and  to  obey  what  the 
Church  commanded.  But  the  movement  of  the  human 
spirit,  which  in  the  sphere  of  thought  had  set  it  so  far 
free  from  ecclesiastical  dominion,  soon  penetrated  into 
the  sphere  of  religion,  and  with  consequences  of  a 
revolutionary  character.  As  in  science  men  claimed  to 
look  at  the  world  and  at  man  apart  from  the  pre- 
suppositions of  the  time,  so  in  religion  the  claims  to 
have  direct  access  to  God  in  Christ  became  urgent. 
Man  claimed  the  right  to  salvation,  and  in  the  fact  of 
justification  by  faith  in  Christ  alone  they  found  the 
truth  which  they  needed.  The  Reformation  returned 
to  the  sources  of  Christian  faith  and  doctrine,  and  the 
reformers  believed  that  they  found  in  the  Scriptures 
that  help  and  guidance  which  the  humanists  had 
found  in  the  new  view  of  man  and  of  the  world.  We 
do  not  dwell  on  this,  the  religious  aspect  of  the  great 


20  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

movement.  We  refer  to  it,  as  the  Renaissance  and  the 
Reformation  are  parts  of  that  great  movement  of 
emancipation  by  which  man  passed  into  a  new  world, 
in  which  a  larger  life  became  possible,  and  more 
adequate  conceptions  of  God,  man,  and  the  world 
became  possible.  Great  movements  affect  all  spheres 
of  human  thought  and  life,  and  the  account  of  any 
aspect  of  them  is  inadequate  if  it  is  not  conscious  that 
no  aspect  can  be  understood  by  itself.  Our  present 
business  is,  however,  not  with  the  Reformation,  but 
with  the  New  Philosophy.  After  a  long  preparation, 
and  after  many  precursors,  the  hour  is  come,  and  the 
man :  the  man  who  is  to  embody  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
and  in  whom  the  spirit  of  the  age  is  to  come  to  a  clear 
consciousness  of  itself. 


CHAPTER   I 

The  New  Situation — The  New  Problems — The  Problem  of 
Existence  —  The  Problem  of  Descartes  —  The  Family  of 
Descartes — His  Birth— His  Early  Years — His  Training — 
Study  of  Mathematics  and  Physics — His  further  Studies — 
His  Military  Life — The  Crisis  of  his  Life— Travels— Inter- 
course with  Scientific  Men  —  His  Works  —  Kesidence  in 
Sweden — His  Death. 

A  NEW  view  of  the  world  had  been  won,  and  new 
scientific  knowledge  had  come  in  with  a  flood,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  work  these  into  a  systematic  form  and 
to  co-ordinate  them  with  the  truths  which  seemed  to 
consciousness  to  be  sure,  clear,  and  indisputable ;  for 
the  need  of  a  system  to  replace  the  scholastic  system, 
now  fallen  into  disrepute,  was  felt  to  be  obvious.  The 
desire  for  a  system,  the  longing  for  a  principle,  assured 
and  certain,  from  which  all  else  would  flow  as  con- 
clusions from  premises,  was  itself  a  proof  that  the 
victory  over  scholasticism  was  not  yet  complete.  But 
with  the  endeavour  after  a  system  there  w^ent  a  state- 
ment of  problems,  the  solutions  of  which  make  up 
the  history  of  modern  philosophy.  The  problem  of 
existence  comes  first  into  view,  and  along  with  it  the 
problem  of  knowledge.  As  the  new_science  had  set 
forth  the  mechanical  explanation  of  nature,  so  it  had 
thrust  into  the  foreground  the  problem  of  the  relation 

21 


22  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

between  the  physical  and  the  mental.  Is  the  mechanical 
explanation  adequate?  or,  is  there  room  for  thej 
teleological  as  well? 

All  these  problems  and  many  others  are  raised  in  the 
works  of  Descartes.  He  belonged  to  a  noble  family  in 
Touraine,  a  family  which  had  attained  to  some  promi- 
nence, and  had  done  some  service  to  the  State.  His 
grandfather  had  served  in  war,  his  father  had  been  a 
counsellor  of  Parliament  at  Rennes.  Some  of  his 
relatives  had  risen  to  a  high  position  in  the  Church. 
In  the  character  and  circumstances  of  his  family  there 
was  nothing  to  excite  that  spirit  of  inquiry,  or  that 
tendency  to  doubt  and  question  every  accepted  opinion, 
which  was  one  of  the  characteristics  of  Descartes. 
Rather,  the  easy  circumstances  and  the  opportunity  of 
a  useful  and  honourable  career  open  to  him,  as  it 
was  to  all  the  loyal  nobility,  might  have  predisposed 
Descartes  to  adhere  to  the  established  order  of  things. 
In  fact,  the  members  of  his  family  did  not  approve  of 
him,  and  his  brother  regarded  him  with  contempt,  even 
after  his  name  was  famous  throughout  Europe. 

Rene  Descartes  was  born  31st  March  1596.  His 
mother  died  a  few  days  after  his  birth.  From  her 
he  inherited  a  weak  constitution  and  a  tendency  to 
consumption,  the  disease  of  which  she  had  died.  That 
he  survived  the  weakness  of  infancy  and  attained  to 
some  measure  of  strength  was  owing  to  the  tenderness 
and  skill  of  a  devoted  nurse,  whom  Descartes  ever  held 
in  grateful  remembrance.  He  was  treated,  owing  to 
his  delicate  health,  with  the  greatest  indulgence. 
Mental  exertion  was  discouraged,  and  he  was  only 
allowed  to  play  at  lessons.  His  desire  for  knowledge 
was  very  strong,  and  his  acuteness  was  so  great  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  23 

his  father  was  wont  to  call  him  his  little  philo- 
sopher. At  the  beginning  of  the  year  1604  he  was 
sent  to  the  Jesuit  College  at  La  Fleche,  recently 
founded  by  Henry  iv.  There  he  studied  physics  and 
philosophy  according  to  the  scholastic  method.  Mathe- 
matics was,  however,  his  favourite  study,  and  he 
seems  soon  to  have  made  such  progress  as  to  have 
passed  beyond  the  range  of  mathematical  attainment 
of  the  time,  and  to  be  on  the  way  towards  the  discovery 
of  the  principles  of  analytical  geometry — the  application 
of  algebra  to  geometry. 

The  school  owed  its  existence  to  the  munificence  of 
King  Henry  iv.,  who  gave  to  the  Jesuit  order  the 
palace  of  La  Fleche,  and  endowed  it  with  royal 
magnificence.  A  hundred  of  the  youth  of  the  French 
nobility  were  to  be  educated  in  it,  and  trained  by  the 
Jesuit  fathers.  Among  the  first  pupils  was  Descartes, 
and  he  remained  there  till  he  had  finished  his  course, 
which  he  did  in  his  seventeenth  year.  Descartes  was 
an  eager,  loyal,  and  ardent  student.  He  easily  mastered 
the  studies  taught  in  the  school,  and  indeed  passed 
beyond  them.  Those  studies  began  with  the  ancient 
languages,  then  a  two  years'  course  in  philosophy, 
comprising  a  course  in  logic  and  ethics,  and  a  course  in 
physics  and  metaphysics.  The  effect  of  these  studies 
on  the  mind  of  Descartes,  taught  as  they  were  then, 
was  to  make  him  question  the  assumptions  on  which 
the  systems  were  based,  and  to  criticise  them  out  and 
out.  They  failed  to  satisfy  his  ardent  desire  for  know- 
ledge, and  they  provoked  that  doubt  which,  so  far, 
set  him  free  from  the  scholastic  method  and  system. 
Mathematics  was  the  only  study  that  satisfied  him. 
Tlie  certainty  of  its  data  and  the  demonstrative  assur- 


24  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

ance  of  its  sequence  spurred  him  on  to  further  study. 
His  aim  even  then  was  to  attain  to  certainty,  clearness, 
and  distinctness  of  knowledge.  What  influence  mathe- 
matics had  on  his  thought,  and  through  him  on 
philosophy,  will  be  apparent  as  we  proceed.  We  shall 
quote  his  own  account  of  his  state  of  mind  at  the  end 
of  his  course  in  school  when  we  seek  to  describe  his 
method. 

In  August  1612  he  left  school.  "I,"  he  says,  "com- 
pletely abandoned  the  study  of  books  as  soon  as  my 
age  permitted  me  to  leave  the  subordinate  position  of 
a  scholar,  and  I  resolved  no  longer  to  study  any  other 
science  than  that  which  I  could  find  in  myself  or  in 
the  great  book  of  the  world."  With  this  resolve  firmly 
fixed  in  his  mind  he  left  school,  and  entered  on  the 
period  of  life  in  the  world  and  as  a  soldier.  He  was 
intended  for  the  army,  but  as  he  was  far  from  strong 
he  stayed  for  some  time  at  Rennes,  where  he  practised 
riding  and  fencing  to  strengthen  himself  and  to  pre- 
pare himself  for  his  future  calling.  Then  for  a  time  he 
went  to  Paris,  and  plunged  into  the  excitement  of  city 
life.  But  the  tendency  towards  scientific  study  con- 
tinued to  dominate  him,  and  suddenly  he  left  com- 
panions and  friends  and  lived  for  two  years  in  a  quiet 
lodging  in  St.  Germain,  hidden  from  friends  and  family. 
During  this  period  of  seclusion  he  was  prosecuting  his 
mathematical  studies.  Occupied  in  his  mathematical 
studies,  the  stream  of  human  events  flowed  on  un- 
observed by  him.  The  last  States  -  General  of  the 
kingdom  might  meet  and  cease  to  meet,  power  might 
pass  from  the  queen- mother  to  the  king,  the  tendency 
which  was  to  issue  in  the  great  event  of  1789  might 
be  set  in  action,  but,  absorbed  in  mathematics,  Descartes 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  25 

was  unconscious  of  those  movements.  Drawn  from  his 
retirement  by  one  of  his  friends,  he  resolved  to  see 
other  phases  of  life  than  those  which  were  open  to 
him  in  Paris.  He  went  to  the  Netherlands  and  entered 
into  the  Dutch  service,  under  Prince  Maurice  of  Nassau, 
then  the  foremost  military  school  of  the  time.  Even 
in  the  military  camp  at  Breda  he  found  leisure  to 
attend  to  his  favourite  pursuits.  He  was  still  occupied 
with  mathematics,  and  was  interested  in  the  mathe- 
matical problems  which  were  posted  on  the  walls, 
challenging  any  one  for  a  solution.  Not  understanding 
the  language,  Descartes  asked  a  bystander  to  translate 
the  problem  into  Latin  or  French.  On  the  second  day 
he  brought  back  the  solution,  and  this  was  the  beginning 
of  intercourse  with  Beeckmann. 

During  his  residence  at  Breda  the  controversy  be- 
tween Calvinist  and  Arminian  grew  to  its  height,  a 
controversy  which  had  echoes  far  and  wide,  and  seems 
to  have  been  as  unnoticed  by  Descartes  as  were  the 
contemporary  events  in  France.  Absorbed  though  he 
was  in  study,  he  yet  felt  that  it  was  needful  for  him  to 
become  acquainted  with  the  world  of  men.  He  desired 
to  be  an  actor,  and  to  feel  the  experience  which  action 
alone  can  give.  In  the  camp  of  Breda  scientific  studies 
were  so  absorbing  that  they  threw  the  active  life  into 
the  background ;  he  resolved  to  pass  into  a  sphere  in 
which  the  call  to  action  would  be  irresistible.  He 
went  to  Germany,  then  at  the  beginning  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  War.  The  great  religious  conflict  which  began 
with  the  Reformation  was  to  be  definitely  fought  out. 
An  emperor  had  come  to  the  throne  who  made  it  his 
life-work  to  stamp  out  the  reformed  religion.  Beginning 
with  a  war  for  the  possession  of  Bohemia,  it  passed 


26  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

into  a  war  for  the  existence  of  Protestantism.  The 
interest  of  Descartes  did  not  lie  in  the  war  as  a  war, 
nor  did  he  enter  into  the  large  interests  involved  in 
that  great  conflict :  it  was  valuable  to  him  as  a  school 
of  experience,  as  a  storehouse  of  material  for  subsequent 
reflection.  He  served  in  the  Bavarian  army  for  a 
time,  and  subsequently  in  the  imperial  army.  But  the 
most  significant  event  of  the  time  for  Descartes  did 
not  lie  in  the  clash  of  arms,  nor  in  the  battles  lost  and 
won;  it  lay  in  the  crisis  through  which  he  passed 
while  he  was  in  winter-quarters  at  Neuberg,  on  the 
Danube,  in  the  winter  of  1619-20.  This  was  nothing 
less  than  the  discovery  of  the  method  which  guided 
him  in  all  his  work,  mathematical  and  philosophical. 
Mathematics  alone  seemed  to  him  to  give  certain 
knowledge.  If  he  could  find  a  method  the  application 
of  which  would  give  him  the  same  sense  of  certainty  in 
dealing  with  other  sciences,  he  would  be  satisfied.  For 
years  he  sought  for  this,  and  at  length  he  believed  he 
had  found  it.  Of  his  exultation  of  spirit  when  he  had 
the  key  of  knowledge  in  his  hand,  and  of  his  method 
itself,  we  shall  read  when  we  read  his  works.  His 
works  are  rich  in  biographical  interest.  For  him  the 
events  of  life  are  his  discoveries,  particularly  the 
discovery  of  his  method,  and  his  application  of  it,  as 
he  thought,  to  the  sciences  and  to  philosophy. 

Some  eight  months  after  the  great  mental  crisis 
through  which  he  had  passed  he  left  Hungary,  and  his 
military  career  ended.  He  did  not  return  immediately 
to  Paris,  but  travelled  through  Moravia  and  Silesia, 
spent  some  time  in  Brandenburg  and  Pomerania,  and 
finally  passed  by  sea  from  Emden  to  Holland.  It  was 
his  first  visit  to  Holland,  the  place  where  he  was  to 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  27 

dwell  so  long.  In  March  1622  he  returned  to  France. 
He  went  to  Rennes  to  visit  his  father,  who  then  put 
him  in  possession  of  his  share  of  his  mother's  property. 
His  inheritance  was  sufficient  for  him  to  live  indepen- 
dently, and  to  set  him  free  from  that  anxiety  which 
has  so  often  paralysed  the  best  efforts  of  less  fortunate 
men.  He  made  no  long  stay  at  Rennes,  as  in  February 
1623  we  find  him  in  Paris.  After  a  stay  of  two  months 
there  he  returned  to  Rennes,  and  shortly  set  out  on  a 
journey  to  Italy.  On  passing  the  Alps  he  made  some 
scientific  observations,  passed  on  to  Innsprtick,  and 
thence  to  Venice,  where  he  wdtnessed  the  marriage 
of  a  new  Doge  with  the  Adriatic.  He  made  a  pilgrim- 
age to  Loretto.  He  visited  Rome,  Florence,  and,  after 
witnessing  the  siege  of  Gavi,  he  returned  by  the  valley 
of  Susa  and  Piedmont  to  France,  and  resolved  to  settle 
for  a  time  in  Paris.  In  Paris  he  could  find  that 
scientific  society  which  was  the  only  sort  of  society 
in  which  he  could  find  pleasure  and  satisfaction.  He 
resided  in  Paris  from  the  end  of  the  year  1625  to  the 
year  1628,  interrupted  only  by  an  occasional  visit  to 
his  relatives.  He  was  present  also  at  the  famous 
siege  of  Rochelle,  and  during  a  truce  visited  the 
English  fleet. 

During  this  period  Descartes  made  the  acquaintance 
of  many  of  those  scientific  men  with  whom  he  corre- 
sponded in  subsequent  years,  and  renewed  his  inter- 
course with  old  friends.  Hardy,  De  Beaune,  Morin, 
Desargues,  Balzac,  and  others  were  among  his  friends, 
with  whom  he  had  much  friendly  and  stimulating 
intercourse.  His  old  friends  Mersenne  and  Mydorge, 
then  engaged  in  optical  studies,  were  the  means  of 
directing  his  attention  to  those  studies  which  eventu- 


28  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

ally  led  to  the  writing  of  his  Dioptrics.  He  gradually 
became  the  focus  of  a  number  of  appreciative  friends, 
and  in  his  intercourse  with  them  he  gave  the  first 
expression  to  those  thoughts  which  he  had  worked 
out  in  solitude  and  toil.  His  friends,  surprised  at 
their  profundity  and  lucidity,  urged  him  to  publish 
them.  He,  however,  preferred  to  brood  over  them 
still  longer,  and  to  wait  for  their  further  ripening. 
Some  interesting  stories  regarding  the  triumph  of  his 
method  belong  to  this  period,  but  they  are  so  familiar 
that  we  need  not  quote  them. 

The  period  of  his  wanderings  had  come  to  an  end. 
He  had  made  trial  of  all  the  knowledge  of  his  time, 
he  had  seen  the  world,  had  visited  many  lands  and 
many  cities,  and  he  had  studied  their  thoughts  and 
their  opinions.  He  was  able  to  detect  the  errors  in 
commonly  accepted  beliefs,  and  his  attitude  towards 
almost  all  the  beliefs  of  men  was  that  of  doubt  and 
criticism.  He  was  sceptical  of  all  except  mathematical 
knowledge.  True,  he  had  seemed  to  see  that  the  mathe- 
matical method,  or  a  method  of  similar  stringency, 
could  be  applied  to  all  knowledge,  but  the  real  work 
was  yet  to  be  done.  He  had  made  himself  a  master  of 
the  method  which  led  to  the  detection  of  error ;  could  he 
make  himself  master  of  a  method  which  would  lead  to 
the  discovery  of  truth  ?  He  remained  silent  about  his 
travels,  said  nothing  regarding  his  varied  experiences 
in  many  lands ;  these  were  only  valuable  in  so  far  as 
they  had  widened  his  experience  of  the  ways  and 
thoughts  of  men.  They  simply  drove  him  back  to 
face  these  unanswered  questions  which  he  saw  lying 
at  the  foundations  of  all  knowledge.  These  had 
always  pressed  on  him  since  he  began  to  reflect,  and 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  29 

they  now  returned  with  greater  insistence  than  ever. 
He  must  be  alone,  and  undisturbed  even  by  his  friends, 
in  order  to  think  them  out.  He  was  a  living  man 
himself,  with  a  wide  experience  of  life ;  surely  he  might 
take  himself  as  a  representative  man,  subject  himself 
and  his  thoughts  to  a  searching  investigation  that  took 
nothing  for  granted,  that  subjected  everything  to  a 
doubt  that  did  not  falter ;  thus  he  might  hope  to  reach 
those  principles  which,  like  mathematical  axioms,  might 
be  supposed  to  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  knowledge. 
For  this,  however,  a  place  was  needed  where  he  could 
be  free  from  interruptions. 

He  sought  for  a  place  which  had  a  climate  suitable 
for  him  and  his  work,  and  in  which  he  might  be  as 
solitary  as  he  pleased.  He  thought  that  he  could  not 
find  these  conditions  in  France,  he  believed  that  both 
could  be  found  in  Holland.  In  the  spring  of  1629  he 
went  to  Holland.  So  resolved  was  he  to  free  himself 
from  the  possibility  of  interruptions  that  he  took  leave 
of  his  family  by  letter,  and  bade  a  personal  farewell  to 
only  a  few  of  his  Parisian  friends.  One  friend  attended 
to  the  business  affairs  of  Descartes,  another  looked 
after  his  literary  affairs,  and  he  jealously  guarded  his 
precious  leisure  from  every  one  else.  He  frequently 
changed  his  abode,  and  habitually  sought  out  for  his 
residence  the  least  frequented  places.  During  the 
twenty  years  of  his  residence  in  Holland  he  changed 
his  habitation  twenty-four  times,  so  determined  was  he 
to  be  master  of  his  time  and  of  his  work.  With  occa- 
sional returns  to  society,  which  for  a  time  he  could 
thoroughly  enjoy,  he  returned  with  increased  zest  to 
his  solitude  and  his  work.  It  was  thus  that  he 
thought  out  and  brought  to  literary  form  these  works 


30  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

which  have  set  those  problems  to  philosophy,  the  solu- 
tions of  which  have  occupied  philosophic  thought  from 
that  day  to  this  !  and  so  became  the  founder  of  modern 
philosophy. 

It  is  not  necessary,  and  would  indeed  be  tedious,  to 
enumerate  the  places  where  Descartes  resided  during 
the  twenty  years  of  his  sojourn  in  Holland.  For  the 
most  part  the  events  of  interest  to  him  were  not  those 
that  happened  in  the  world,  but  those  which  culminated 
in  the  working  out  of  his  thought,  its  reduction  into 
literary  form,  and  the  publication  of  his  works.  The 
subjects  at  which  he  worked  were  of  immense  range 
and  of  abounding  and  permanent  interest.  The  first 
effort  resulted  in  the  sketch  of  the  Meditations,  which 
was  completed  in  the  year  1629.  He  then  set  himself 
to  the  preparation  of  a  comprehensive  work,  in  which 
there  would  be  a  systematic  explanation  of  the  world 
according  to  his  new  principles.  His  first  aim  was  to 
discover  a  method  whereby  real  and  progressive  know- 
ledge might  be  won  by  man.  By  the  use  of  this 
method  he  hoped  to  arrive  at  a  true  metaphysic,  and 
by  the  further  application  of  it  to  reach  true  and 
adequate  conceptions  of  man  and  the  world.  But  the 
order  of  his  discovery  was  not  the  order  of  their 
publication.  Assuming  the  truth  of  his  method  and 
principles,  he  set  himself  to  their  application,  and  if  the 
application  of  them  were  accepted  he  believed  the  way 
would  be  prepared  for  a  favourable  consideration  of  the 
method  and  principles  themselves.  With  this  view  he 
gave  himself  to  the  preparation  of  the  treatise  on  the 
Cosmos.  In  the  main  assumption,  which  lies  at  the 
basis  of  his  system,  he  so  far  anticipated  the  nebular 
theory  with  which  are  associated  the  names  of  Kant 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  31 

and  Laplace.  A  homogeneous  matter,  with  only  the 
^  qualities  of  extension  and  mobility,  and  from  these 
the  phenomena  of  the  world  are  to  be  deduced.  A 
fixed  quantity  of  matter,  and  a  constant  quantity  of 
motion  being  given,  then  from  these  data  the  world 
can  be  explained.  He  laboured  at  the  work  and  got 
it  into  literary  shape,  but  he  did  not  publish  it.  As  he 
was  about  to  publish  it  he  heard  of  Galileo's  book 
on  the  same  subject,  and  he  learned  of  the  com- 
motion which  that  book  had  caused,  and  it  gave  him 
pause.  He  heard  that  the  doctrine  of  the  motion 
of  the  earth  round  the  sun  had  been  condemned,  and 
that  Galileo  had  been  somewhat  roughly  dealt  with  by 
the  Holy  Office.  Some  time  after  he  received  from 
Beeckmann  a  copy  of  Galileo's  book,  and  finding  in  it 
many  positions  identical  with  his  own,  he  was  at  a  loss 
what  to  do.  Having  learned  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
motion  of  the  earth  was  not  tolerated,  he  saw  that 
if  he  was  to  publish  his  work  he  would  bring  himself 
under  the  condemnation  of  the  Church.  "I  am  like 
wicked  debtors,"  he  wrote  to  Mersenne,  November  28, 
1633,  "who  are  always  asking  their  creditors  for  more 
time,  as  soon  as  they  see  the  day  for  payment  drawing 
near.  I  had  really  intended  to  send  you  my  Cosmos  as 
a  New  Year's  present ;  and  about  two  weeks  ago  I  was 
entirely  resolved  to  send  a  part  of  it  to  you,  if  the 
whole  should  not  be  then  copied.  But  I  have  just  been 
inquiring  in  Leyden  and  Amsterdam  whether  Galileo's 
system  of  the  universe  can  be  there  found,  since  I 
thought  I  had  heard  that  it  had  been  published  in 
Italy  the  previous  year.  I  am  now  informed  that  it 
was  certainly  printed,  but  that  every  copy  of  it  was 
immediately  burnt  at  Rome,  and  that  Galileo  himself 


32  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

was  sentenced  to  do  penance.  This  has  so  strangely- 
affected  me  that  I  have  almost  resolved  to  burn  all  my 
manuscript,  or  at  least  to  show  it  to  no  one.  And  I  am 
the  more  inclined  to  this  resolution,  because  it  at  once 
occurs  to  me  that  Galileo,  who  is  an  Italian  and,  as  I 
am  informed,  has  been  in  favour  with  the  Pope,  is 
charged  with  no  other  crime  than  this  doctrine  of  the 
motion  of  the  earth,  which,  as  I  know,  some  cardinals 
had  before  pronounced  heretical.  But  in  spite  of  it,  if 
my  information  is  correct,  it  has  continued  to  be  pro- 
pagated in  Rome ;  and  I  confess,  if  it  is  false,  all  the 
principles  of  my  philosophy  are  erroneous,  since  they 
mutually  support  each  other ;  and  it  is  so  closely  con- 
nected with  all  the  parts  of  my  work  that  I  cannot 
leave  it  out  without  fatally  injuring  the  rest.  But  on 
no  account  will  I  publish  anything  that  might  displease 
the  Church,  and  I  will  rather  suppress  it  altogether 
than  allow  it  to  appear  in  a  mutilated  condition" 
(quoted  in  Kuno  Fischer's  Descartes,  pp.  231,  232). 
Descartes  was  not  made  of  the  stuff  of  which  martyrs 
were  made.  He  was  afraid  of  opposition,  specially  of 
opposition  proceeding  from  quarters  that  had  the  power 
and  the  will  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  It  was  open 
to  him  to  keep  his  book  secret,  but  he  did  not  altogether 
take  the  course.  He  did  not  keep  the  secret,  he  pub- 
lished his  conclusions  in  a  form  which  might  possibly 
be  distinguished  from  the  form  which  had  been  con- 
demned. "  In  words,"  he  says,  "  I  deny  the  motion  of  the 
earth,  while  in  reality  I  defend  the  system  of  Coper- 
nicus." The  peculiar  example  of  Descartes,  himself  a 
pupil  of  the  Jesuits,  was  followed  by  the  Jesuit  editors 
of  Newton's  Principia.  The  Declaratio  of  PP.  Le  Seur 
et   Jacquier,  prefixed    to    the    second  volume  of  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  33 

Jesuit  edition  of  the  Principia  is  as  follows :  "  New- 
tonus  in  hoc  tertio  Libro  Telluris  motae  hypothesim 
assumit.  Autoris  Propositiones  aliter  explicari  non 
poterant,  nisi  eadem  quoque  facta  hypothesi.  Hinc 
alienum  coacti  sumus  gerere  personam.  Caeterum  latis 
a  summis  Pontificibus  contra  telluris  motum  Decretis 
nos  obsequi  profitemur."  On  the  dexterity  of  this 
movement  we  make  no  remark.  Authoritative  de- 
cisions of  an  infallible  authority  have  their  inconveni- 
ences. Nor  shall  we  make  any  remark  on  the  timidity 
of  Descartes,  or  on  the  compromise  to  which  he  came. 

Having  for  these  reasons  resolved  not  to  publish  the 
Cosmos  in  the  form  in  which  he  had  prepared  it,  he 
turned  to  other  work.  But  we  do  not  propose  to 
describe  the  preparation  of  his  successive  works  or 
the  order  of  their  publication.  The  first  work  of  his 
published  is  the  Discourse  on  Method,  or,  to  give  the 
title  in  full.  Discourse  on  the  Method  of  rightly 
guiding  the  Reason  in  the  investigating  of  Truth  in 
the  Sciences;  the  Dioptrics,  and  the  Meteors.  The 
book  did  not  attract  much  attention.  In  fact,  it  was 
not  till  the  Meditations  were  published  that  the  world 
awoke  to  the  fact  that  a  thinker  of  the  first  magnitude 
had  appeared  on  it.  In  the  Discourse  he  had  already 
revealed  the  main  principles  of  his  philosophy,  and  had 
discussed  the  necessity  of  universal  doubt,  the  principle 
of  certainty,  the  criterion  of  knowledge,  the  existence 
of  God  and  of  the  soul.  But  these  principles  had  only 
been  stated ;  they  required  to  be  unfolded,  elucidated, 
and  established.  He  had  thought  out  his  system,  and, 
in  fact,  the  main  ideas  of  his  philosophy  were  widely 
known  before  they  appeared  in  print.  He  had  talked 
about  them  frequently  with  his  friends  in  Paris  and  in 
3 


34  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

Holland ;  many  had  been  attracted  by  these  ideas  and 
had  talked  about  them  in  their  turn ;  and  the  Cartesian 
philosophy  had  become  a  'factor  in  contemporary 
thought  before  it  was  accessible  in  the  writings  of  its 
author.  In  1640  appeared  the  first  edition  of  the 
Meditations.  Copies  of  it  had  been  given  to  several 
of  those  of  reputation,  of  whom  may  be  named  Arnauld, 
Gassendi,  and  Hobbes ;  their  criticisms  and  objections 
had  been  considered  by  Descartes,  and  along  with  his 
replies  were  published  as  an  appendix  to  the  original 
work.  The  Responsiones  is  longer  than  the  original 
treatise,  but  they  are  of  great  value  for  the  true  appre- 
hension of  the  meaning  of  the  author.  The  Principia 
Philosophice  was  published  in  1642.  The  only  other 
work  published  during  his  life  was  the  treatise  on 
the  Emotions,  De  Passionibus.  It  was  written  at 
the  request  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  a  daughter  of 
the  unfortunate  King  of  Bohemia.  He  kept  up  a 
correspondence  with  her,  and  in  that  correspondence 
he  set  forth  his  ideas  about  Ethics. 

The  publication  of  his  system  resulted  in  contro- 
versy. The  New  Philosophy  found  warm  adherents 
and  resolute  enemies.  His  disciples  were  enthusiastic, 
and  in  the  universities  they  began  to  advocate .  the 
system  of  their  master.  They  roused  opposition,  they 
really  invited  attack,  and  soon  the  battle  raged  furi- 
ously. The  conflict  is  of  importance  only  historically, 
and  need  not  detain  us  here.  It  may  be  said,  however, 
that  Descartes  was  attacked  by  Romanist  and  Pro- 
testant alike.  The  one  accused  him  of  heretical  views, 
of  an  inclination  to  Protestantism,  and  even  of  taking 
part  in  Protestant  worship  ;  the  other  charged  him  with 
scepticism,  atheism,  and  with  holding  opinions  subver- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  35 

sive  of  the  basis  of  State,  of  CJiurch,  and — as  the  con- 
troversy was  keenest  in  university  circles — of  the 
University.  Controversial  literature  is  not  of  the 
most  edifying  kind,  and  a  controversy  in  which  merely 
local  and  transitory  topics  occupy  so  large  a  place  may 
be  left  by  us  untouched.  Hard  blows  were  given  and 
received,  men  shrieked  in  their  wrath,  appealed  for 
sympathy  and  protection,  as  controversialists  usually 
do;  but  the  controversy  has  long  fallen  into  silence, 
and  silent  let  it  remain.  The  most  serious  consequence 
for  Descartes  was  that  it  broke  up  the  idyllic  and 
meditative  repose  which  had  been  his,  and  which 
was  necessary  for  his  work.  He  loved  study,  and 
for  the  sake  of  study  he  needed  repose.  His  moments 
of  rapture  were  those  in  which  new  ideas  dawned 
on  him.  He  could  be  roused  to  passion  and 
enthusiasm  only  as  he  attained  to  clear  and  distinct 
ideas,  his  emotions  attended  the  working  of  his  in- 
telligence, and  his  ,  highest  delights  were  in  the 
triumphs  of  his  thought.  He  was  not  a  courageous 
man,  nor  was  he  willing  to  recognise  the  merits  of 
others.  He  was  original,  but  not  so  original  as  he 
thought.  He  gave  expression  to  ideas  which  were  in 
the  atmosphere  of  his  time,  but  he  still  carried  with 
him  traces  and  marks  of  the  scholasticism  with  which 
he  thought  he  had  utterly  broken.  Descartes  had 
been  led  into  correspondence  with  Queen  Christina 
of  S\veden,  the  daughter  of  Gustavus  Adolphus.  The 
topics  are  varied  and  interesting,  and  the  questions 
of  the  queen  and  the  answers  of  the  philosopher  form 
profitable  reading.  But  the  queen  thought  that  the 
questions  she  wished  answered  and  the  answers  them- 
selves could  be  better  understood  by  her  if  she  could 


36  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

hear  them  from  Descartes  himself.  She  urged  him  to 
come  to  Stockholm.  After  some  hesitation  he  finally 
consented  to  visit  the  queen.  He  was  royally  received, 
scarcely  a  philosopher  in  the  world's  history  liad  such 
a  welcome  and  such  honour  as  Descartes  received  from 
Queen  Christina. 

He  went,  as  he  said,  "to  a  land  of  bears,  in  the 
midst  of  rocks  and  ice."  The  climate  was  uncongenial, 
and  that  winter  seemed  to  have  been  unusually  severe. 
Then  the  queen  insisted  that  the  best  time  for  study 
was  in  the  early  morning,  so  Descartes  had  to  go  to 
the  palace  every  morning  at  five  o'clock.  One  may 
imagine  what  the  atmosphere  of  Stockholm  was  like  at 
five  o'clock  of  a  November  morningf.  To  make  matters 
worse,  the  friend  with  whom  he  lived  was  taken  ill, 
and  Descartes  often  sat  up  with  him  during  his  illness, 
and  after  nights  of  wakefulness  went  through  the  cold 
morning  air  to  the  palace.  Soon  he  fell  ill,  and  after 
a  short  period  he  died  on  February  11,  1650,  in  the 
fifty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 


CHAPTER    II 


Discontent  of  Descartes  with  the  Knowledge  of  his  Time — His 
Account  of  that  Knowledge — His  Four  Rules  for  Guidance — 
The  Method  of  Mathematics — Analysis  and  Synthesis — 
Specimen  of  Synthesis — Extension  of  Mathematical  Method 
— The  Question  of  Descartes  and  the  Question  of  Kant — 
Nature  and  Limits  of  Human  Knowledge — The  Data  of  Intelli- 
gence— The  Two  Methods — The  Search  for  Certainty — Cogito, 
ergo  sum  —  Clear  and  distinct  Knowledge  —  Questions  raised 
by  the  Cartesian  Philosophy,  and  the  Answers  to  them. 

The  reason  of  the  discontent  of  Descartes  with  the 
knowledge  of  his  time  was  that  he  was  persuaded  that 
it  was  not  grounded  in  principles,  was  not  proven 
by  a  right  method,  that,  in  short,  its  foundations  were 
insecure  and  its  conclusions  unwarranted.  Only  in 
the  field  of  mathematics  could  he  find  reasoned  truth, 
grounded  on  sure  principles,  and  carried  to  its  conclu- 
sions by  inevitable  inference.  The  knowledge  of  his 
time  was  defective,  and  carried  with  it  no  certainty. 
It  had  been  gathered  from  all  kinds  of  sources,  huddled 
together  with  no  method ;  it  was  guaranteed  only  by 
authority.  What  we  learn  by  authority  is  not  philo- 
sophical, it  is  only  historical  knowledge.  "  From  my 
childhood  I  gave  my  mind  to  the  study  of  letters, 
since  I  heard  from  my  teachers  that  by  their  help  a 
clear  and  certain  knowledge  of  all  those  things  useful 

37 


38  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

for  life  could  be  acquired.  I  burned  with  an  incredible 
desire  to  learn.  But  as  soon  as  I  had  finished  the 
complete  course  of  study,  at  the  close  of  which  it  is 
the  custom  to  reckon  one  among  the  learned,  I  began 
to  think  otherwise.  For  I  found  myself  involved  in 
so  many  doubts  and  errors  that  all  attempts  at 
learning,  I  judged,  profited  me  nothing  save  to  convince 
me  more  and  more  of  my  own  ignorance.  Yet  I  had 
studied  in  one  of  the  most  celebrated  schools  of  Europe, 
in  which,  if  anywhere  in  the  wide  world,  learned  men 
were  to  be  found.  All  that  others  learned  there,  I 
also  had  been  taught.  Not  content  with  the  sciences 
which  we  were  taught,  I  read  whatever  books  came 
into  my  hands  on  subjects  curious  and  rare.  I  knew 
the  estimate  others  formed  of  me.  I  had  learned 
all  that  they  had  learned,  nor  was  I  inferior  to  them, 
though  some  of  them  were  marked  out  to  fill  the  places 
of  teachers.  And,  in  fine,  this  age  I  judged  to  be 
not  less  flourishing  and  as  fertile  in  good  minds  as 
any  preceding  age.  All  these  things  gave  me  the 
boldness  to  judge  others  by  myself,  and  to  believe 
that  there  was  no  science  in  existence  of  such  a  kind 
as  I  had  been  given  to  believe"  (Diss,  de  Methodo, 
p.  3,  Elzevir  ed.). 

He  proceeds  to  review  the  sciences  taught  at  the 
school, — the  ancient  languages,  rhetoric,  poetry,  mathe- 
matics, theology,  and  philosophy.  None  of  these 
could  be  strictly  called  science,  except  mathematics, 
thouo^h  he  had  found  somethino^  useful  in  all  of  them. 
Mathematics  had  a  solid  foundation ;  the  disquisitions 
of  the  moralists  were  towering  and  magnificent 
palaces  built  on  foundations  of  sand  and  mud. 
Philosophy  had  so  many   conflicting   opinions,   every 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  39 

one  of  which  had  its  learned  advocates,  but  Descartes 
thought  only  one  of  them  could  be  true,  and  it  was 
likely  they  were  all  false.  He  resolved  to  abandon 
the  study  of  letters  and  to  travel.  By  travel  and 
observation,  by  observing  that  views  which  seemed 
extravagant  and  ridiculous  to  him  were  accepted  and 
approved  by  great  nations,  he  was  able,  he  says,  to 
"  free  himself  from  many  errors  powerful  enough  to 
darken  our  natural  intelligence."  He  resolved  to 
make  himself  a  subject  of  study,  in  order  to  find  the 
method  and  the  goal  of  knowledge. 

The  knowledge  contained  in  books,  composed  as  they 
were  of  many  opinions  of  many  different  individuals 
massed  together  anyhow,  did  not  seem  to  him  to  be  so 
near  the  truth  as  were  the  inferences  which  a  man  of 
good  sense  would  draw  regarding  the  matters  of  his  own 
experience.  Further,  the  conclusions  which  men  reach, 
passing  as  they  do  from  infancy  to  manhood,  and 
governed  by  desires  and  by  teachers  who  often  did 
not  agree  with  each  other,  appeared  to  him  less  secure 
than  they  might  have  been,  had  reason  been  mature 
from  the  moment  of  birth.  Have  we,  then,  each  for 
himself  to  build  the  house  of  knowledge  from  the 
foundation  ?  Here  he  brings  in  the  well  -  known 
illustration  of  the  rebuilding  of  a  city.  It  is  not 
customary  to  pull  down  all  the  houses  of  a  town  with 
the  single  design  of  rebuilding  them  differently,  and 
to  render  the  streets  more  handsome.  But  still,  he 
thought  that  for  himself  he  could  not  do  better  than 
resolve  to  sweep  the  opinions  he  had  embraced  up 
to  that  time  out  of  the  way  completely,  that  he  might 
find  others  more  correct,  or  hold  the  old  opinions  after 
they  had  undergone  the  scrutiny  of  reason.     He  would 


40  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 


thus  be  more  successful  in  the  conduct  of  life,  than  if 
he  were  to  build  on  the  old  foundations  and  lean  on 
principles  which  he  had  taken  on  trust.  Like  one 
walking  in  the  dark  and  alone,  he  meant  to  proceed 
slowly  and  watchfully,  so  that,  if  he  did  not  make 
much  progress,  he  might  secure  himself  from  falling. 
He  studied  carefully  the  nature  of  the  task  he  had 
undertaken,  and  sought  to  find  the  true  method  by 
which  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  whatever  lay 
within  the  compass  of  his  powers.  /He  laid  down 
four  simple  rules  for  his  guidance.  Firsts  not  to  V 
accept  anything  as  true  which  he  did  not  clearly  knowi 

to  be  such;  second^ difficulties  under  examination  to  bel 

broken  up  into  as  many  parts  as  possible,  so  as  to  pro;/ 
vide  for  an  adequate  solution ;  thir,d,  to  proceed  from' 
the  simple  to  the  complex,  and  to  go  by  little  and  little 
and  step  by  step,  and  to  assign  a  certain  order  to  th 
objects  which  in  their  own  nature  do  not  stand  iiLii 
relation  of  ground  and  consequence;  and,  fourth,   ia 
omit  nothing,  but  to  make  as  complete  an  enumeratioiL' 
and  as  wide  a  review  as  possible., 

The  mathematical  method  was  in  his  mind,  and  the 
long  chains  of  simple  and  easy  reasonings  by  which 
mathematics  reached  its  most  difficult  conclusions  led 
him  to  believe  that  all  things  were  connected  in  the 
same  way,  and  that  there  was  nothing  so  remote  or  so 
hidden  that  it  might  not  be  reached,  if  men  were  not  to 
accept  the  false  for  the  true,  and  if  they  kept  in  their 
thoughts  the  order  necessary  for  the  deduction  of  one 
truth  from  another.  So  he  set  himself  to  a  fresh  study 
of  mathematics  and  its  method,  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
sidering them  in  the  most  general  form  possible,  in 
order  to  apply  them  to  every  class  of  objects  to  which 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  41 

they  might  be  legitimately  applicable.  He  tells  us 
how  he  was  led  to  apply  algebra  to  geometry,  and  the 
mastery  which  this  gave  him  over  both. 

To  find  a  method  which  will  advance  from  problem 
to  problem,  from  solution  to  solution,  from  discovery" 
?  to  discovery,  with  a  conviction  of  certainty  in  every 
)  stage  of  the  process,  was  the  object  of  his  quest.  He_ 
~seemed  to  find  such  a  method  in  the  method  of 
mathematics.  Mathematics  did  solve  problems,  it 
"made  discoveries,  and  it  had  been  progressive.  It 
proceeded  from  the  known  to  the  unknown.  Could 
this  method  be  universal  ?  He  set  himself  to  make 
this  method  valid  for  the  whole  doctrine  of  quantities, 
and  by  his  discovery  of  Analytical  Geometry  took  a 
long  step  towards  the  conquest  of  the  world  of  quantity. 
But  a  still  greater  step  was  needed  in  order  to  make 
the  method  applicable  to  all  knowledge.  It  may  be 
well,  however,  to  have  a  clear  conception  of  what 
he  understood  by  mathematical  method.  Happily, 
we  have  a  statement  from  himself  on  this  matter.  It 
is  to  be  found  in  the  second  set  of  objections  to 
the  Meditations;  the  objector  urged  Descartes  to  treat 
the  subject  Tnore  geomxetrico,  in  order  more  effectively 
to  convince  his  readers.  The  reply  is  instructive,  as  it 
discloses  to  us  Descartes'  conception  of  his  own  method. 
"  Two  things  I  distinguish,"  he  says,  "  in  the  mode 
of  geometrical  writing,  to  wit,  the  order  and  the 
method  {rationem)  of  demonstration.  The  order  con- 
sists in  this,  that  the  things  which  are  first  propounded 
ought  to  be  intelligible  without  any  help  from  that 
which  follows,  and  all  that  follows  should  be  seen 
to  rest  on  what  had  preceded.  I  have  endeavoured  to 
follow  this  order  most  accurately  in  my  Meditations ; 


42  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

the  observance  of  this  was  the  reason  why  I  did  not 
treat  the  subject  of  the  distinction  of  Soul  and  Body 
in  my  second  book,  but  in  the  sixth  book,  and  why 
I  consciously  and  intentionally  omitted  many  things, 
because  they  required  an  explanation  of  more  things 
than  I  could  overtake.  But  the  mode  of  demonstra- 
tion is  twofold,  to  wit,  one  is  by  analysis  and  one 
by  synthesis.  Analysis  points  out  the  true  way  by 
which  a  matter  is  discovered  methodically,  and  as  it 
were  a  priori,  so  that  the  reader,  if  he  is  willing  to 
follow  and  sufficiently  attend  to  it,  may  understand 
it  and  make  it  his  own,  as  if  he  had  discovered  it 
for  himself."  This,  however,  makes  a  greater  demand 
on  the  reader  than  he  is  disposed  to  yield  to. 
Descartes  goes  on  to  describe  the  synthetic  method. 
"  Synthesis,  on  the  contrary,  proceeds  in  the  opposite 
way,  and  as  it  were  a  posteriori  (though  the  proof 
itself  is  often  more  a  priori  in  this  than  in  that),  and 
clearly  demonstrates  the  conclusion.  It  uses  a  long 
series  of  definitions,  postulates,  axioms,  theorems,  and 
problems,  so  that  if  any  of  its  consequences  be  denied 
it  points  out  that  it  was  contained  in  the  antecedents, 
and  thus  compel  assent  from  the  reader,  however 
unwilling  and  pertinacious  he  may  be."  Ancient 
geometers  knew  both  methods,  though  they  used  only 
the  synthetic  method.  In  the  Meditations  Descartes 
says  he  had  used  the  analytic  method  ;  he  started  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  ordinary  mind,  and  went  on 
step  by  step  to  the  end.  He  states  that  this  is  the 
best  way  of  teaching.  The  synthetic  method  is  power- 
ful, because  the  reader  usually  willingly  assents  to 
the  definitions,  axioms,  and  postulates,  but  the  difficulty 
in   metaphysics   is    how   to   obtain   the   first  notions. 


THE   NEW    PHILOSOPHY  43 

"In  rebus  metaphysicis  de  nulla  re  magis  laboratur 
quam  de  primis  notionibus  clare  et  distincte  perci- 
piendis  "  {Res.  ad  sec.  Objectiones,  pp.  82,  83). 

He  does  give  a  specimen  of  the  synthetic  method,  with 
all  the  machinery  of  axiom,  etc.,  which  we  shall  find 
to  be  useful  in  the  sequel.  But  the  main  reason  why 
this  passage  has  been  quoted  is  to  show  that  when 
Descartes  uses  the  mathematical  method  he  mainly 
uses  it  in  its  analytical  form.  He  uses  it  as  an  instru- 
ment in  the  search  for,  and  the  discovery  of,  first 
principles.  As  he  had  applied  analysis  to  mathematics 
— and  by  the  use  of  it  had  discovered  the  universal 
mathematical  method — he  seeks  now  to  make  an  an- 
alysis of  all  knowledge,  that  he  may  discover  the 
conditions  of  truth  and  of  error.  He  determines  to 
analyse  all  opinions  into  their  elements.  The  opinions 
he  has  to  analyse  are  there  in  his  own  mind.  He 
knew  what  were  the  opinions  of  men,  for  he  had 
observed  them  and  had  shared  them.  He  felt  that 
analysis  must  not  stop  with  the  breaking  up  of  opinion 
ihto~Eheir  elements ;  he  must  go  on  to  analyse  the  mind 
itself.  So,  for  the  first  time  in  philosophy,  a  man  has 
arisen  who  seeks  to  make  consciousness  itself  the 
object  of  consciousness.  It  was  like  trying  to  make 
the  eye  see  itself.  For  the  first  time  the  Ego  stood 
out  as  the  object  of  analysis  and  research.  It  was 
difficult  to  see  the  problem,  more  difficult  to  state  it, 
and  most  difficult  to  approach  towards  its  solution. 

His  aim  is  to  discover  in  every  subject  the  truths 
wKicliTare  concealed  in  it,  to  bring:  into  clear  conscious- 
ness  the  various  elements  which  have  guided  our 
thinking  and,  perhaps,  our  action.  He  had  universal- 
ised  mathematics  by  claiming  for  them  the  right  to 


44  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

deal  with  all  matters  which  involved  order  and  quan- 
tity, whether  quantity  was  found  in  figures,  stars, 
sounds,  or  in  objects  very  different  from  these.  _The 
problem  for  him  was  the  problem  of  knowledge.  To 
this  problem  Descartes  applies  his  analytic  method. 
He  therefore  seeks  to  know  all  the  presuppositions, 
and  all  the  points  involved  in  the  fact  of  knowledge. 
He  did  not  ask  Kant's  question.  How  is  knowledge 
possible  ?  for  the  time  of  asking  that  had  not  yet 
come.  Descartes  had  to  ask  his  own  question  first, 
for,  if  he  had  not  asked  it,  Kant  could  not  have 
conceived  his  own  problem,  or  its  solution.  But 
Descartes  could  ask  what  were  the  conditions  neces- 
sary for  the  solution  of  a  problem,  and  could  insist 
on  the  necessity  of  a  complete  survey  of  all  the  points 
connected  with  any  problem.  This  he  called  enumera- 
tion or  induction.  He  illustrates  induction  copiously 
from  mathematics.  At  present,  however,  we  look  at 
the  application  of  his  method  of  analysis  to  opinion 
and  to  the  mind  itself.  After  the  manner  of  mathe- 
matics, he  is  looking  for  a  principle  or  principles  as 
evident,  as  sure,  as  clear,  and  as  distinct  as  are_.the 
first  principles  of  mathematics.  He  means  to  find 
these  by  analysis,  and  when  he  has  found  them  he 
hopes  to  use  them  as  easily  as  the  geometer  uses 
synthetically  his  definitions  and  axioms.  fThe  basis 
of  knowledge  is  found  when,  by  analysis,^  we  reach 
■those  principles  of  immediate  certainty,  those  intuitions 
f  which  cannot  be  doubted,  and  which  are,  when  under- 
'^  stood,  perfectly  clear  in  the  light  of  reason.  By 
analysis  to  reach  these  intuitions,  and  then  to  build 
on  them  synthetically  until  the  syntlietic  propositions 
shall  cover  the  whole  of  human  knowledge,  and  explain 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  45 

the  world  and  man, —  this  is  a  brief  description  of 
Descartes'  Hope,  and  so  far  of  his  method.)      ^^^--^2^42^2^ 

To  reach  the  intuition,  and  to  bring  it  into  clear  and 
distinct  consciousness,  and  then  to  build  on  it  in  sys- 
tematic fashion  is  the  Cartesian  method.  To  find  that 
intuition  which  is  ultimate,  to  see  it  in  its  clearness 
and  certainty,  and  then  to  build  on  it  step  by  step — 
this  is  the  aim  he  has  in  view.  Ultimately  the  method 
of  Descartes  is  really  an  inquiry  into  the  nature  and 
Jimits  of  human  knowledge.  In  fact,  he  explicitly 
states  this  in  the  regalw.  "The  most  important  of 
all  the  problems  to  be  solved  is  the  determination  of 
the  nature  and  limits  of  human  knowledge,  —  two 
points  which  we  embrace  in  one  question,  which  must 
first  of  all  be  methodically  investigated.  Every  one 
who  has  the  least  love  for  truth  must  have  examined 
this  question ;  since  the  investigation  comprehends  the 
whole  of  method  and,  as  it  were,  the  whole  organon  of 
knowledge.  Nothing  seems  to  me  more  absurd  than 
to  contend,  at  random,  about  the  mysteries  of  nature, 
the  influences  of  the  stars,  the  unknown  events  of 
the  future,  without  having  once  inquired  whether  the 
human  mind  is  competent  to  such  inquiries"  (quoted 
in  Kuno  Fischer's  Descartes,  Eng.  trans,  p.  326). 

Thus  the  problem  is  for  Descartes  the  problem  of 
human  knowledge.  Method  is  not  merely  an  instru-  ~ 
ment  for  the  construction  of  knowledge,  it  is  an  ex- 
position of  the  real  nature  of  mind;  and  a  complete 
analysis  of  the  method  will  at  the  same  time  be  a 
complete  exposition  of  the  nature  and  processes  of 
human  knowledge.  Further,  as  knowledge  depends 
on  intelligence,  we  cannot  have  true  knowledge  until 
we  know  intelligence.     If,  therefore,  we  really  have 


46  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

true  knowledge  of  intelligence,  and  if  the  data  of  -Ij 
intelligence  are  known  clearly  and  distinctly,  Descartes 
holds  that  by  deduction  from  these  first  principles  we 
may  arrive  at  all  truth.  The  difficulty  is  to  arrive  at 
the  data  ;  if  the  data  are  there,  then  all  men  may  easily 
draw  the  inevitable  inferences. 

Thus  the  vital  question  for  him  became  this — How 
am  I  to  reach  the  data  of  intelligence  ?  How  may  I 
arrive  at  these  intuitions  which  are  first  and  ultimate, 
which,  being  given  and  clearly  and  distinctly  known, 
form  the  basis  and  ground  of  all  certain  knowledge. 
One  way,  we  saw,  had  been  already  indicated  by  him. 
It  was  to  start  from  common  experience  and  by  an- 
alysis to  bring  into  clearness  the  principles  which  are 
involved  in  common  knowledge.  It  is  a  legitimate 
method,  and  one  which  Descartes  saw  to  be  true  and 
fit,  but  which  he  did  not  consistently  use.  He  sud- 
denly stops  short  in  his  method  of  analysis,  and  sub- 
stitutes for  a  process  of  analysis  a  process  of  abstraction. 
In  fact,  he  really  did  not  seriously  attempt  the  working 
out  of  his  process  of  analysis  at  all.  It  is  not  an 
analysis  of  the  nature  and  limits  of  the  human  under- 
standing that  we  find  in  his  method,  though  that  was 
formally  stated  to  be  the  intention  of  it;  it  is  some- 
thing else  that  is  there.  His  method  is  a  method  of, 
doubt. 

These,  however,  are  two  methods,  not  one.     It  is  one] 
thing  to  analyse  the  conditions  of  knowledge  with  a  I 
view  to  the  discovery  of  the  principles  involved   in  | 
every  process  of  knowledge,  and  to  bring  into  clear  I 
consciousness  what  men  had  assumed  in  all  knowledge   ] 
and  action,  and  thus  to  state  clearly  the  nature  and  J 
principle  of  intelligence ;  it  is  another  thing  to  apply 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  47 

the  solvent  of   doubt  to  all   our  conceptions   and   to 
sweep  away  every  conception  which  may  be  questioned 
and  doubted.     The  first  method  set  forth  by  Descartes 
himself  was  one  likely  enough  to  lead  him  to  the  dis- 
covery of  such  principles  as  he  might  place  alongside 
of  the  axioms  of  mathematics,  and  which  he  might  use 
.  generally  as  mathematicians  used  their  axioms.     But 
S  this  method  he  really  did  not  use.     What  he  did  was 
^.Sto  doubt  all   that   might   be   doubted.      The   goal   of 
'^  (the  one  method  was  the  discovery  of  necessary  and 
(universal   truth ;    the   goal   of   the  other  was  merely 
certainty. 

Now,  Descartes  frequently  interchanged  these  two 
methods,  and  did  not  consistently  carry  either  of  them 
to  their  proper  issue.  In  his  description  of  the  mathe- 
matical method,  and  specially  in  the  analytic  form 
of  it,  he  had  something  clear  and  definite  in  hand ;  but 
then,  he  never  applied  it  in  the  search  after  first  prin- 
ciples. What  he  really  did  was  to  proceed  on  the  quest 
after  certainty,  and  to  apply  to  all  experience  the 
solvent  of  doubt.  By  this  he  did  accomplish  some- 
thing, but  not  what  he  had  in  view.  Reality  to  the 
ancients  wa^  givenji  sense  -  consciousness ;  to  the 
Middle  Ages  it  was  given  in  revelation  and  guaranteed 
by  authority;  bu(r~fco"Descartes  these  two  waj^s  had 
become  doubtful.  It  is  not  necessary  to  travel  over 
the  road  by  which  Descartes  reached  the  maxim  Cogito, 
ergo  sum.  It  has  been  so  frequently  described  that 
it  has  become  commonplace.  I  may  doubt  everything, 
and  every  form  of  experience;  experience  itself  may 
be  only  another  form  of  dreaming :  but,  says  Descartes, 
I  cannot  doubt  that  I  doubt.  In  order  to  doubt,  I  must 
be,  and  must  exist  as  a  thinking  being.     It  is  possible 


48  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

that  there  is  no  object  outside  of  me,  that  the  whole 
sensible  world  has  no  reality  beyond  my  thought; 
but  it  is  incontestable,  at  least  the  thought  is,  that  I 
exercise  the  function  of  thinking.  It  is  possible  that 
an  almighty  betrayer  might  play  "upon  me  so  that 
I  might  take  mere  appearance  for  reality;  but  he 
could  not  deceive  me  if  I  did  not  exist,  and  he  could 
not  work  on  me  if  I  were  not.  "  I  think,  therefore  I 
am  " ;  such,  with  various  illustrations  and  amplifications, 
is  the  argumeiitxif  Descartes.  By  the  application  of 
the  method  of  doubt^e  has  reached  one  certainty,  and 
he  has  a  deaj^-artid'^distinct  conception  of  this  one, 
certainty.  It  is  an  axiom,  a  self-evident  truth,  like 
the  axioms  of  mathematics ;  I  cannot  state  it  without 
affirming  it. 

This,  then,  was  certain;  for  if  I  thought  that  all 
was  false  it  was  absolutely  necessary  that  I,  who  thus 
thought,  should  be  somewhat.  As  this  could  not  be 
shaken,  Descartes  accepted  it  as  the  first  principle  of 
the  philosophy  of  which  he  was  in  search.  Having 
obtained  his  first  principle,  he  proceeded  to  apply  it. 
The  procedure  was  somewhat  curious,  and  it  remains 
a  curiosity  to  this  day.  Instead  of  inquiring  into  the 
nature  and  mode  of  working  of  the  thinking  being, 
or  of  asking  what  were  the  conditions  of  thought,  he 
proceeded  in  a  very  different  manner.  He  asked.  What 
is  involved  in  thinking?  He  answered  by  making 
an  abstraction.  He  could  suppose  that  he  had  no  body, 
that  there  was  no  world  nor  any  place  in  which  he 
might  be ;  but,  while  he  continued  to  think,  he  could 
not  think  himself  away.  So  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  mind  was  wholly  distinct  from  the  body,  and 
though  the  body  was  not,  the  mind  would  still  con- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  49 

tinue  to  be  what  it  was.  How  could  he  be  sure  that 
the  mind  was  ?  and  how  obtain  the  certainty  that 
his  first  principle  was  universal  and  necessary  ?  The 
answer  to  this  question  led  him  to  ask  what  was 
essential  to  the  truth  and  certainty  of  a  proposition. 
"  Ail  the  things  which  we  clearly  and  distinctly  con- 
ceive are  true."  He  adds  that  there  is  some  difficulty 
in  rightly  determining  what  we  distinctly  conceive. 

Underlying  his  procedure  is  the  assumption  that 
whatever  I  can  think  away  does  not  essentially  belong 
to  me.  In  the  Cogito,  ergo  sum  it  is  necessary,  accord- 
ing to  Descartes,  to  leave  behind  everything  that  may 
have  a  foreign  source.  So  he  abstracts  from  the  body 
and  abstracts  from  the  object  of  thought  and  reduces 
the  Cogito  to  the  bare  potentiality  of  thinking,  to 
the  blank  form  of  thought.  The  external  object 
becomes  bare  extension,  and  the  subject  abstract  self- 
consciousness ;  and  this  is  his  first  principle.  There  is 
no  analysis  of  the  self  or  of  self-consciousness,  no 
inquiry  into  the  relations  of  self  and  not-self,  or  of 
subject  and  object;  and  his  first  principle,  reduced  to 
impotence  in  the  moment  of  its  birth,  remains  a 
principle  with  no  possibility  of  movement  in  it.  If  he 
had  applied  the  method  he  describes  as  the  method  of 
mathematics,  he  might  have  arrived  at  rational  first 
principles  implied  in  all  experience.  As  he  proceeded 
by  mere  abstraction,  he  had  to  approach  real  experience 
only  by  arbitrary  ways,  and  he  left  himself  little 
possibility  of  reaching  a  true  interpretation  of  ex- 
perience. It  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  he,  the  thinking 
substance,  asserts  its  existence  in  the  very  act  by  which 
it  denies  everything  else.  But  the  thinking  subject, 
abstracted  by  Descartes  from  all  else,  and  left  out  of 
4 


50  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

relation  to  all  else,  must  remain  shut  up  in  isolated 
particularism,  and  can  never  find  a  way  of  getting  into 
relations.  Descartes  did  obtain  his  first  principle,  but 
it  was  utterly  barren.  How  are  we  to  pass  from  the 
thinking  substance,  which  is  occupied  with  itself  and 
is  moved  only  by  itself,  to  an  extended  substance 
which  has  no  quality  save  extension  ?  There  is  really 
no  way  of  transition  from  the  one  to  the  other.  We 
shall  see  how  Descartes  strove  to  overcome  the 
difficulty.  Meanwhile,  let  us  observe  how  he  managed 
to  reduce  the  self  to  the  mere  potentiality  of  thinking. 
"  By  the  term  Cogitatio  I  comprehend  all  that  is  in 
the  mind,  so  that  we  are  immediately  conscious  of  it. 
Thus  all  the  operations  of  the  will,  intellect,  imagina- 
tion, and  senses  are  thoughts."  He  lays  stress  on  the 
word  Immediately,  and  thus  endeavours  to  ward  ofi"  the 
objections  made  to  the  Cogito,  ergo  sum,  to  the  effect 
that  we  may  as  well  say  I  walk,  therefore  I  am. 
Descartes  replies  that  not  walking,  but  the  conscious- 
ness of  walking,  is  the  criterion.  Thus  willing,  imagi- 
nation^ etc.;  are  not  thought,  but  the  consciousnessjDf 
them  is  thought.  These  are  only  occasions  of  thought, 
and  they  are  not  thought  until  they  are  referred  to 
consciousness.  I  am  always  conscious,  and  conscious- 
ness is  Cogitatio. 

But  what  of  all  the  experiences  of  the  self — the 
impressions,  feelings,  desires,  volitions  which  make  up 
so  much  of  our  mental  life  ?  From  this  point  of  view 
these  are  ignored  or  neglected  by  Descartes.  They  are 
merely  particulars,  and  the  stress  is  laid  on  thinking  in 
general.  Thus,  in  addition  to  abstracting  the  self  from 
V  the  world,  it  is  abstracted  also  from  the  concrete 
/  ^^  elements  of   its  own  experience.     Thus  the  Cartesian 


t/^ 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  51 

philosophy  gave  rise  to  a  number  of  speculations 
regarding  the  self,  the  world,  and  God,  which  have 
taken  various  forms  in  the  evolution  of  Modern 
Philosophy.  While  it  contained  the  germ  of  the  most 
fruitful  developments  of  the  modern  spirit,  yet  the 
modern  spirit  had  to  wander  in  many  waste  places  ere 
it  escaped  from  the  snares  set  to  it  by  the  master. 
Abstracted  from  the  contents  of  concrete  experience, 
and  reduced  to  the  mere  potentiality  of  thinking  in 
general,  self -consciousness  and  self -existence  became  an 
unverifiable  hypothesis,  and  the  very  first  principle  of 
Descartes  became  an  unverifiable  assumption.  Thus 
with  regard  to  the  external  world,  and  the  reality  of 
the  extended,  the  hypothesis  of  Descartes  prepared  the 
Avay  for  Berkeley.  Still  more  relevant  is  the  doubt 
cast  on  the  reality  of  self -consciousness  by  Hume. 
What  is  the  real  content  of  this  consciousness  which  is 
the  basal  certainty  of  Descartes  ?  Descartes  laid  stress 
on  the  fact  of  thinking  in  general.  Yes ;  but  what  is 
thinking  in  general  apart  from  the  concrete  contents  of 
thought  ?  Hume  put  this  question,  and  Descartes  from 
his  point  of  view  could  have  found  no  relevant  answer. 
The  Cogitatio,  which  was  to  Descartes  the  basis  of 
certainty,  became  for  Hume  "  nothing  but  a  bundle  of 
difierent  perceptions,  which  succeed  each  other  with  an 
inconceivable  rapidity,  and  are  in  a  perpetual  flux  and 
movement." 

It  may  be  well  to  quote  this  classic  passage.  "  For 
my  part,  when  I  enter  most  intimately  into  what  I  call 
myself,  I  always  stumble  on  some  particular  perception 
or  other,  of  heat  or  cold,  light  or  shade,  love  or  hatred, 
pain  or  pleasure.  I  never  can  catch  onyself  at  any  time 
without  a  perception,  and  never  can  observe  anything 


5  2  DESCARTES,   SPINOZA,   AND 

but  the  perception.  When  my  perceptions  are  removed 
for  any  time,  as  by  sound  sleep ;  so  long  am  I  insensible 
of  myself,  and  may  truly  be  said  not  to  exist.  .  .  .  Our 
eyes  cannot  turn  in  their  sockets  without  varying  our 
perceptions.  Our  thought  is  still  more  variable  than  our 
sight,  and  all  our  other  senses  and  faculties  contribute 
to  this  change ;  nor  is  there  any  single  power  of  the 
soul  which  remains  unalterably  the  same  perhaps  for 
one  moment.  The  mind  is  a  kind  of  theatre,  where 
several  perceptions  successively  make  their  appearance ; 
pass,  re-pass,  glide  away,  and  mingle  in  an  infinite 
variety  of  postures  and  situations"  (Hume's  Works, 
Green's  ed.,  vol.  i.  p.  584). 

On  the  one  hand,  Descartes  had  separated  thinking 
from  the  contents  of  thought,  and  had  left  nothing  save 
the  abstract  potentiality  of  thinking;  and  Hume,  on 
the  other  hand,  could  find  nothing  but  the  stream  of 
particular  perceptions,  a  whirl  of  gliding  internal  move- 
ments, somehow  bound  together  into  a  fictitious  unity, 
which  had  slathered  to  itself  the  semblance  of  a 
continuous  self.  It  may  be  observed  that  Descartes 
had  separated  thinking  from  the  objects  of  thought 
only  in  an  abstract  manner,  and  that  he  brought  back 
the  objects  one  by  one  as  he  needed  them.  But  that 
fact  does  not  do  away  with  the  mischief  wrought  by 
the  formal  abstracting  process.  For  one  thing,  he  is 
never  clear  about  the  objective  reference  of  thought, 
nor  does  he  precisely  say  whether  the  object  of  thought 
is  a  mental  state  or  an  idea,  or  whether  it  has  an 
objective  reference.  While  lie  speaks  metaphysically, 
the  object  of  thought  seems  to  be  an  idea;  when  he 
speaks  scientifically,  the  object  seems  to  be  objective, 
something  almost  independent  of  the  idiosyncrasy  of 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  53 

the  observer.  In  truth,  Descartes  may  be  said  to  be 
the  father  of  modern  science  in  a  more  real  sense  than 
he  can  be  said  to  be  the  father  of  modern  philosophy. 
At  all  events,  he  left  the  doctrine  of  the  Self  in  a  most 
inchoate  state. 

While  Descartes  abstracted  the  thinking  process 
from  the  contents  of  thought,  Hume,  on  the  other 
hand,  abstracted  the  contents  of  thought  from  the 
process  of  thought.  In  both  cases  the  absent  factor 
was  present,  though  ignored  by  them.  Hume  always 
found  himself  occupied  with  some  particular  impression, 
but  he  also  found  himself  in  every  impression.  That 
is  to  say,  that  the  conscious  self  was  there  in  every 
state.  There  was  the  ultimate  mystery  of  states  of 
consciousness,  and  a  consciousness  of  the  states.  The 
impressions  were  there,  and  along  with  them  there  was 
the  awareness  of  their  presence.  These  two,  thought 
and  the  objects  of  thought,  are  the  inseparable  elements 
of  the  activity  of  the  conscious  self,  and  they  must  be 
taken  together.  By  separating  thought  from  its  object, 
and  by  separating  the  mind  from  the  world,  Descartes 
introduced  that  dualism  which  spoilt  the  fruitfulness 
of  his  philosophy,  and  gave  rise  to  that  abstract 
rationalism  which  divorced  philosophy  from  experience, 
and  gave  rise  also  to  that  empiricism  which  divorced 
experience  from  thought. 

Limiting  our  view  for  the  moment  to  the  abstract 
idea  of  the  self,  which  he  set  forth,  and  deferring  the 
account  of  the  attempts  to  restore  the  ruptured  unity 
of  thought  and  its  content,  we  may  say  that  his 
example  and  his  influence  have  ruled  the  problems  of 
philosophy  to  this  hour.  The  problem  of  the  self  is 
the   hardest   in   philosophy,   and   it    becomes   all   the 


54  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

harder  when  we  have  to  tliink  of  many  selves  in 
interrelation  with  each  other  in  the  unity  of  one  world. 
How  far  it  is  from  a  solution  may  be  seen  from  a 
glance  at  the  current  text-books  in  psychology,  and 
from  the  discussions  about  the  many  selves  which  the 
ingenuity  of  psychologists  discover  within  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  one  apparent  self.  Or  if  a  man  wants 
to  discover  the  intricacies  of  the  problem,  and  to  be 
aware  of  the  many  elements  in  the  problem,  he  may 
read  the  discussion  in  Mr.  Bradley's  Appearance  and 
Reality. 

We  do  not  enter  into  that  discussion  nor  trace  the 
modifications  of  the  doctrine  of  the  self  in  the  schools 
of  modern  philosophy,  whether  Hegelian  or  other.  We 
only  remark  that  the  problem  has  been  set  for  all  of 
these  schools  by  Descartes.  There  are  many  forms  of 
the  problem  and  of  its  solutions.  We  have  the  form 
of  the  problem  set  forth  by  Descartes  himself,  in  which 
the  Ego  is  taken  to  be  the  form  of  consciousness,  and 
directly  afiiliated  to  this  is  the  phsenomenalistic 
spiritualism  of  Berkeley,  the  monadological  spiritualism 
of  Leibniz,  and  the  transcendental  idealism  of  Kant. 
The  idea  as  the  content  of  consciousness  has  given  rise 
to  the  Ego  as  absolute  substance  of  Spinoza,  the  Ego  as 
absolute  activity  by  Fichte,  and  the  Ego  as  absolute 
reason  by  Schelling  and  Hegel,  and  the  Ego  as 
absolute  will  by  Schopenhauer,  and  as  individual  will 
by  Wundt.  Taking  the  Ego  as  empirical  principle,  and 
subordinating  it  to  its  objects,  we  have  the  empirical 
philosophies  from  Locke  to  Herbert  Spencer.  Whether 
the  outcome  be  idealism  or  empiricism,  they  are  alike 
dealing  with  the  problem  of  the  self;  and  even  the 
idealism  of  the  present  day  in  its  highest  form  turns 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  55 

out  on  inspection  to  be  a  construction  of  the  ultimate 
reality  in  terms  dictated  by  the  type  of  the  one  self. 
We  pass  on  to  a  consideration  of  the  way  in  which 
Descartes  endeavoured  to  heal  the  breach  he  caused  in 
knowledge  by  his  too  abstract  treatment  of  mind  and 
matter. 


CHAPTER   III 

The  Cogito,  ergo  sum  —  Its  Meaning  for  Descartes  —  What  is 
Thought  ? — Certainty  of  Intuitive  Truth  —  Appeal  to  the 
Veracity  of  God — Need  of  such  Appeal,  in  regard  to  Intuitive 
Truth  and  to  the  Perception  of  External  Things — Space  and 
Matter — Mind  and  Matter — Argument  for  the  Existence  of 
God — Dualism — Reality  and  Perfection — Objective  Reality — 
The  Lumen  Naturale — Causality — The  Place  of  the  Con- 
ception of  God  in  the  Cartesian  System. 

The  Discourse  on  Method  was  really  a  search  for  the 
elementary  truths  of  Consciousness.  The  Cogito,  ergo 
sum  was  not  regarded  as  an  argument,  it  was  the  first 
fundamental  rational  truth.  Its  evidence  was  im- 
mediate intuitive  certainty.  It  was  clear  and  distinct. 
By  clearness  is  meant  what  is  intuitively  present  and 
manifest  to  the  mind,  and  distinctness  that  which  is 
entirely  clear  in  itself  and  precisely  determined.  AH 
these  presentations  or  ideas  which  are  in  this  sense 
clear  and  distinct,  whose  evidence  is  not  to  be  deduced 
from  any  others  but  is  grounded  in  themselves,  he  calls 
Innate  Ideas.  The  truth  of  them  is  self-evident ;  they 
are  believed  as  soon  as  they  are  understood. 

The  Cogito,  ergo  sum  is  thus  a  necessary  truth  of 
reason,  and  means  that  wherever  there  is  consciousness 
there  is  existence.  What,  then,  is  the  bearing  of  this 
universal  and  necessary  proposition  on  the  fact  of  my 

56 


THE    NEW   PHILOSOPHY  57 

)articular  consciousness  as  something  existing  here  and 
now  ?  A  universal  truth  is  always  apprehended  in  and 
through  the  particular;  and,  in  accordance  with  this, 
the  universal  truth  that  wherever  there  is  conscious- 
ness there  is  existence,  carries  with  it  the  particular  fact 
lETTat,  so  far  as  I  am  conscious,  I  exist.  But  the  universal 
truth  does  not  carry  with  it  the  inference  that  I  have 
existed  in  the  past  or  will  exist  in  the  future.  But 
what  Descartes  needs  is  just  a  proof  that  the  self  exists 
permanently  as  a  simple  indivisible  substance,  that  its 
existence  now  guarantees  its  permanent  existence.  He 
tssumes  without  proof  that  thought  is  a  quality,  and 
being  a  quality  it  implies  a  permanent  substancei.  -^  ^ 
The  main  use  which  he  makes  of  the  Cogito  is  that 
he  regards  it  as  a  universal  truth,  and  a  universal  c> 
criterion  of  truth.  The  idea  of  consciousness  is  in- 
separable from  the  idea  of  existence.  Not  to  dwell  on 
the  difficulty  of  proving  the  existence  of  the  self  as  a 
spiritual  substance,  and  not  to  insist  on  the  fact  that 
existence  can  never  be  proved,  it  can  only  be  defined, 
we  may  ask  how  the  Cogito  should  be  a  criterion  of 
truth.  Why  should  it  be  universally  true,  and  be  a  ^ 
criterion  of  all  truth  ?  Supposing  it  true  in  itself  and  < 
for  us,  why  should  it  be  true  universally  ?  For  the 
sake  of  clearness  let  us  look  a^ain  at  his  definition 
of  the  Cogito,  and  take  it  now  from  the  Principles  of 
Philosophy.  We  use  the  translation  of  Professor 
Veitch.  "  What  thought  is. — By  the  word  thought  I 
understand  all  that  which  so  takes  place  in  us  that  we 
of  ourselves  are  immediately  conscious  of  it ;  and 
accordingly,  not  only  to  understand,  to  will,  to  imagine, 
but  even  to  perceive,  are  here  the  same  as  to  think. 
For  if  I  say,  I  see,  or,  I  walk,  therefore  I  am ;  and  if  I 


58  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

understand  by  vision  or  walking  the  act  of  my  eyes 
or  of  my  limbs,  which  is  the  work  of  the  body,  the 
conclusion  is  not  absolutely  certain,  because,  as  is  often 
the  case  in  dreams,  I  may  think  that  I  see  or  walk, 
although  I  do  not  open  my  eyes  or  move  from  my 
place,  and  even,  perhaps,  although  I  have  no  body ; 
but  if  I  mean  the  sensation  itself,  or  consciousness  of 
seeing  or  walking,  the  knowledge  is  manifestly  certain, 
because  it  is  then  referred  to  the  mind,  which  alone 
perceives  or  is  conscious  that  it  sees  or  walks  "  (p.  196). 
The  testimony  of  consciousness  cannot  be  questioned 
without  self-contradiction.  He  further  illustrates  it 
thus:  "If  I  judge  that  there  is  an  earth  because  I 
touch  or  see  it,  on  the  same  ground,  and  with  still 
greater  reason,  I  must  be  persuaded  that  my  mind 
exists;  for  it  may  be  that  I  think  I  touch  the  earth 
while  there  is  none  in  existence ;  but  it  is  not  possible 
that  I  should  so  judge,  and  my  mind  that  thus  judges 
not  exist ;  and  the  same  holds  good  whatever  object  is 
presented  to  our  mind"  (p.  197). 

There  is  still  another  possibility.  Grant  the  certainty 
in  possession  of  the  mind  when  it  is  face  to  face  with 
intuitive  truth,  is  this  certainty  to  be  trusted  ?  There 
are  certain  common  notions  out  of  which  the  mind 
frames  various  demonstrations  that  carry  conviction  to 
such  a  degree  as  to  render  doubt  impossible.  As  long 
as  we  attend  to  the  premises  from  which  necessary 
conclusions  are  drawn  we  feel  assured  of  their  truth ; 
"  but,  as  the  mind  cannot  always  think  of  these  with 
attention,  when  it  has  the  remembrance  of  a  conclusion 
without  recollecting  the  order  of  the  deduction,  and  is 
uncertain  whether  the  author  of  its  being  has  created 
it  of  a  nature  that  is  liable  to  be  deceived,  even  in 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  59 

what  appears  most  evident,  it  perceives  that  there  is 
just  ground  to  distrust  the  truth  of  such  conclusions, 
and  that  it  cannot  possess  any  certain  knowledge  until 
it  has  discovered  its  author"  (pp.  198,  199).     Descartes 
is  often  untrue  to  his  own  method,  and  trusts  it  only 
with  a  hesitating  faith.     It  was  open  to  him  to  take 
his   stand   on   the   trustworthiness  of   the   faculty  of 
knowledge,  and  to  say  that  mind  is  to  be  trusted  when     i/ 
it  makes  affirmations  about  truth  which  it  sees  to  be 
true  as  soon  as  it  understands  it.     To  deny  that  two 
and  two  make  four  is  possible  only  on  the  assumption 
that  the  faculty  of  knowledge  is  essentially  untrust-    . 
worthy.     If  the  mind  cannot  trust  itself  in  the  know-  *;A. 
ledge  of  its  necessary  affirmations,  how  can  it  trust    .>«^ 
itself  in  the  search  after  the  knowledge  of  the  author ,     ^ 
of  its  being  ?  ^  ^ 

This  is  one  of  the  instances  in  which  the  father  of 
rationalism  manifests  his  distrust  of  reason.  Reason 
is  to  be  trusted  only  till  it  establishes  the  existence  of 
God,  and  then  it  assumes  an  attitude  of  blind  trust, 
and  leaves  the  responsibility  with  the  author  of  it. 
If  he  were  true  to  his  own  principles  he  would  boldly 
have  claimed  for  reason  the  right  to  accept  as  true  all 
that  reason  demanded  as  necessary  for  the  validity 
of  its  operations.  What  is  the  good  of  establishing  a  ^ 
universal  criterion  of  truth  if  one  admits  the  possibility 
of  a  breakdown  on  the  part  of  the  criterion  in  its  most 
fundamental  operation  ? 

It  is  not,  however,  the  only  occasion  of  the  advent 
of  the  Dews  ex  machina  in  the  system  of  Descartes. 
Dealing  with  the  principles  of  material  things,  in  the 
second  part  of  the  Principles  of  Philosophy,  he  makes 
the  same  appeal  to  the  veracity  of  God  which  he  had 


6o  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

made  in  relation  to  the  self.  "  Every  perception," 
he  says,  "comes  to  us  from  some  object  different  from 
our  mind ;  for  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  cause  ourselves 
to  experience  one  perception  rather  than  another,  the 
perception  being  entirely  dependent  on  the  object 
which  affects  our  senses  "  (Veitch's  Translation,  p.  232). 
We  should  be  deceived  if  the  idea  of  this  extended 
matter  were  presented  to  us  by  some  object  which 
possessed  neither  extension,  figure,  nor  motion.  Having 
made  this  remark  at  some  length,  he  ends  the  para- 
graph by  the  statement  that  "  this  extended  substance 
is  what  we  call  body  or  matter."  •  "  Pleasure  and  pain 
and  other  sensations  do  not  arise  from  the  mind  and  do 
not  belong  to  it  as  a  thing  that  thinks,  but  only  in  so 
far  as  it  is  united  to  another  thing  extended  and  move- 
able, which  is  called  the  human  body."  By  the  senses, 
then,  we  are  not  in  touch  witli  reality.  Their  purpose  is 
teleological,  to  wit,  to  tell  us  what  is  beneficial  or  hurt- 
ful to  the  composite  whole  of  mind  and  body.  What, 
then,  is  body  ?  "  The  nature  of  body  consists  not  in 
w^eight,  hardness,  colour,  and  the  like,  but  in  extension 
alone.  It  is  simply  a  substance  extended  in  length, 
breadth,  and  depth."  The  properties  of  matter  have 
vanished,  and  there  is  nothing  left  for  our  considera- 
tion save  the  properties  of  space.  In  Section  18  we 
have  the  curious  conclusion  that  if  the  matter  within 
a  vessel  could  be  entirely  removed  the  space  within  the 
vessel  would  no  longer  exist,  "for  two  bodies  must 
touch  each  other  \yhen  there  is  nothing  between  them, 
and  it  is  manifestly  contradictory  for  two  bodies  to  be 
a^art,  in  other  words,  that  there  should  be  a  distance 
between  them,  and  this  distance  yet  be  nothing;  for 
all   distance   is   a   mode   of   extension,  and   therefore 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  6i 

cannot  exist  without  an  extended  substance  "  (p.  242). 
The  underlying  assumption  is,  that  all  space  must  be 
always  full  of  matter.  In  fact,  this  is  a  necessary 
result  of  the  identification  of  the  properties  of  matter 
with  the  properties  of  space.  It  is  surprising  that 
Descartes,  having  limited  the  conception  of  matter 
to  the  notion  of  extension,  should  yet,  in  a  measure, 
have  anticipated  the  stateinent  of  Newton's  first  law 
of  motion.  "Harum  prima  est,  unamquamque  rem, 
quatenus  est  simplex  et  indivisa,  manere  quantum 
in  se  est  in  eodem  semper  statu,  nee  unquam  mutari 
nisi  a  causis  externis"  (Prin.  ii.  37).  This  is  a  state- 
ment of  the  fundamental  property  of  matter  as  it  is 
generally  defined  by  physicists.  Every  individual 
thing,  so  far  as  in  it  lies,  perseveres  in  the  same  state. 
But  this  is  no  property  of  mere  extension,  and  cannot 
be  deduced  from  the  conception  of  space.  It  is  true 
of  bodies  within  space  in  their  interaction  with  one 
another,  but  if  space  be  the  only  form  of  substance, 
and  all  existing  matter  but  affections  of  space,  there 
can  be  no  interaction. 

Having  attenuated  the  conception  of  matter  until 
there  is  nothing  left  but  extension,  and  having  set 
forth  the  conception  of  mind  as  thinking  and  nothing 
more,  the  problem  arose  how  to  get  these  into  relation 
with  one  another.  It  is  not  enough  to  plead  the  mere 
empirical  fact  that  these  are  somehow  united  in  the 
union  of  soul  and  body.  For  mind  is  unextended, 
indivisible,  and  as  "  nothing  besides  thinking  belongs 
to  the  essence  of  the  mind,  it  follows  that  nothing 
else  belong  to  it.  But  the  essence  of  matter  is 
extendedness,  divisibility;  and  the  natures  of  these 
substances  are  to  be  held  not  only  as  diverse,  but  in 


62  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

some  measure  as  contraries."  How,  then,  we  ask 
again,  are  they  to  be  brought  into  relation  to  each 
other.  Here  is  a  knot  which  Descartes  cannot  untie, 
and  he  brings  in  the  Deity  to  untie  a  knot  which 
he  has  himself  perversely  tied.  Man  does  need  God, 
of  that  there  can  be  no  doubt;  but  why  postulate 
the  action  of  the  Deity  merely  to  restore  a  harmony 
only  created  by  the  inconsistent  thinking  of  man? 
The  absolute  disparity  of  mind  and  matter,  or,  to  put  it 
more  particularly,  of  soul  and  body,  formed  a  crux  for 
the  Cartesian  school  which  they  were  never  able  to 
overcome.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  enumerate  all  the 
devices  employed  by  them  to  overcome  the  difficulty. 
It  is  an  interesting  chapter  in  the  history  of  specu- 
lation, and  parallels  to  it  may  be  found  in  many 
X  quarters.  By  our  undue  abstractions  we  rupture  the 
/  unity  which  lies  before  our  eyes,  and  has  only  to 
be  rig'htly  seen  to  be  understood ;  and  then  we  strive 
all  our  lives  to  restore  the  lost  unity,  and  without 
success. 

Descartes  postulated  God,  first,  to  vindicate  his  trust 
in  first  principles ;  and  second,  to  maintain  a  relation- 
ship between  mind   and   matter,  which  he  had  made 
so  disparate  as  to  leave  no  conceivable  bond  of  union 
between   them.      Why   did   he   not   retrace   his  steps 
and  revise  his  definitions  ?     The  question  is  unanswer- 
.  able.     As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  uses  principles  which 
^  y,y  he  holds  to  be  truths  evident  by  the  light  of  reason 
"  fi^^  prove  the  existence  of  God,  and  then  he  seeks  to 
*        'guarantee  the  validity  of  reason  by  the  veracity  of  God. 
,  ,         He  also  places  the  two  elements  of  human  nature  so 
i  far  apart,  that  any  possible  union  between  them  can 

be  maintained  only  by  the  power  of  God.     Thus  there 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  63 

is  necessary  a  continued  creation,  or  an  abiding  exercise 
of  divine  power,  to  maintain  the  commerce  of  mind  and 
body.  It  was  necessary  for  Descartes  to  prove  the 
existence  of  God,  if  for  no  other  reason  than  for  this — 
to  make  his  philosophy  a  thing  which  could  work. 

We  do  not  mean  to  say  that  Descartes   has   con- 
tributed   nothing    worthy   to    the   argument   for   the 
being  of  God.     At  present  we  remark  only,  that   it 
is  not  a  worthy  procedure  to  bring  in  the  notion  of 
the   Deity   to   save   a   system   from   bankruptcy.     In 
almost   all  his   works  Descartes   reiterates   his   proof 
for   the  being  of  God.     It  is  substantially  the  same 
in  all  of  them,  though  stress  is  laid  now  on  this  and 
now  on  that  aspect  of  the  argument,  as  this  or  that 
logical  need  is  uppermost.     As  we  have  already  said, 
Descartes  had  failed  to  do  justice  to  his  own  principle 
of  the  unity  of  thought  and  being  in  self -consciousness. 
If  the  consciousness  of  self  is  the  first  certainty,  and  if 
we  cannot  abstract  from  it,  then  to  seek  to  go  beyond 
it  is  futile.     But  Descartes  did  not  trust  his  own  first 
principle.      We  cannot   go  beyond  the   consciousness 
of  self,  for  there  is  nothing  prior  to  it,  and,  besides, 
all  objects  are  in  relation  to  it.     There  can  be  nothing 
which  is  not  in  possible  relation  to  the  self,  and  this 
relationship  is  the  presupposition  of  thought.     It  is  not 
possible   to   take  the  mind  as   a  thing   among  other 
things;  a   mere   res   cogitans   can  apprehend  nothing 
but  thoughts  or  ideas.     Outside   these   thoughts   and 
ideas  there  is  another  and  a  contrary  series  with  which 
thought  has  nothing  to  do.     Matter  thus  takes  on  the 
attribute  of  unintelligibility,  and  notwithstanding  the 
empirical   unity   of   mind   and   body   a   chasm  Exists 
between    them,   for    thought    is    not    extension,  and 


64  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

matter  cannot  think.  It  is  a  dualism  which  is  funda- 
mental and  absolute. 

It  was  necessary ,  for  Descartes  to  find  some  prin- 
ciple whereby  the  absolute  opposition  of  mind  and 
matter  could  be  overcome.  There  must  be  a  way  by 
which  the  subjective  consciousness  can  hold  intercourse 
with  the  objective  order.  He  strives  to  connect  the 
consciousness  of  self  with  the  consciousness  of  God. 
If  we  can  find  God  in  our  minds  we  have  a  way  by 
which  we  can  reach  the  world  and  bring  it  within  the 
circle  of  possible  knowledge. 

How  are  we  to  pass,  then,  from  the  simple  and  sure 
datum  of  consciousness  to  the  knowledge  of  the  world  ? 
The  answer  of  Descartes  is,  that  wherever  we  find  a 
conviction  as  clear,  distinct,  and  indubitable  as  is 
contained  in  the  Cogito,  ergo  sum  we  are  warranted 
in  assuming  it  to  be  an  indication  of  truth,  and  an 
index  of  real  existence.  In  the  Reply  to  the  Second 
Objections,  Descartes  gives  us  a  specimen  of  the 
geometrical  method  of  procedure  in  its  application  to 
the  demonstration  of  the  being  of  God.  He  proceeds 
by  definitions,  postulates,  axioms,  and  propositions. 
The  relevant  matter  at  present  is  the  axioms,  or  those 
ultimate  propositions  which  to  Descartes  are  appre- 
hended with  as  much  clearness  and  distinctness,  and 
with  as  stringent  a  necessity  as  the  Cogito  is  appre- 
hended. These  are  not  deduced  from  the  Cogito ; 
they  are  placed  side  by  side  with  it  as  possessing  the 
same  note  of  self-evidence.  These  axioms,  however, 
enable  Descartes  to  pass  from  the  barrenness  of  the 
mere  Cogito  to  the  wider  knowledge  which  he  needs. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  quote  the  ten  axioms  which 
he   enumerates.     The   meanino^   of   the  first  axiom  is 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  65 

that   nothing  exists  of  which  it   cannot  be  inquired, 
what  is  the  cause  of  its  existence  ?  of  the  second,  that 
the  conservation  of  a  thing  requires  as  great  a  cause 
as  the  production  of  it.     The  third  is  of  more  import- 
ance,— at  least,  it  plays  a  greater  part  in  the  system 
of   Descartes.     "Any    thing   or   any   perfection   of   a 
thing   actually   existent   cannot   have    nothing,   or   a 
thing  non-existent,  for  the  cause  of  its  existence."    And 
the  fourth  axiom  states :  "  All  the  reality  or  perfection 
which  is  in  a  thing  is  found  formally  or  eminently 
in  its  first  or  total  cause  "  (Veitch,  p.  270).     The  fifth 
axiom  says  "that  the  objective  reality  of  our  ideas  re- 
quires a  cause  in  which  this  same  reality  is  contained, 
not  simply   objectively,   but   formally   or   eminently."  q 
Formally  or  eminently   are   the   notes   of  real   exist- 
ence, in  distinction  from   merely  conceived  existence. 
The  other  axioms  need  not  be  quoted,  but  these  are 
quoted  as  they  are  of  significance  in  connection  with 
the  proof   of   the  existence  of  God.     How  are  we  to 
reach   objective   reality  ?    or   what  is   meant   by   the 
objective  reality  of  an  idea  ?     Descartes  held  that  the 
axiom,  that  "the  objective  reality  of  our  idea  requires  ^ 
a  cause  in  which  this  reality  is   contained"   must  of 
necessity  be  admitted,  as  upon  it  alone   depends   the 
knowledge  of   all  things,  whether   sensible  or  insens- 
ible.    "From  whence,"   he   asks,   "do    we   know  that 
the   sky   exists  ?     Is  it  because  we  see  it  ?     But  this 
vision   does   not  afiect  the  mind  unless  in   so  far   as 
it  is  an  idea,  and  an  idea  inhering  in  the  mind  itself, 
and  not  an  image  depicted  on  the  phantasy ;  and,  by 
reason  of  this  idea,  we  cannot  judge  that  the  sky  exists 
unless  we  suppose  that  every  idea  must  have  a  cause 
of  its  objective  reality  which   is  really  existent,  and 
5 


66  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

this  cause  we  judge  to  be  the  sky  itself,  and  so  in 
other  instances  "  (Veitch,  p  270). 

Thus  for  Descartes,  the  objective  reality  of  an  idea 
demands  that  something  must  exist,  apart  from  the 
idea,  which  shall  have,  in  fact,  the  qualities,  charac- 
teristics, and  features  which  appear  in  the  idea. 
Every  idea  must  have  a  cause  of  its  objective  reality 
which  is  really  existent.  It  is  a  large  order.  In  the 
statement  of  the  axiom  it  appears  as  a  consequence 
of  axioms  four  and  five,  which  we  have  already  quoted. 
Everything  and  every  perfection  of  a  thing  must  have 
a  cause,  and  all  the  reality  or  perfection  of  a  thing 
must  be  in  its  first  cause,  and  therefore  he  holds  that 
the  contents  of  an  idea  must  be  regarded  as  an 
existing  thing.  The  axiom  is  of  great  importance 
in  the  procedure  of  Descartes.  On  it  he  relies  for  any 
advance  he  may  make  from  thought  to  reality.  By 
its  supposed  cogency  he  passes  from  the  experience 
of  thinking  to  the  real  existence  of  the  thinking  being, 
and  the  real  existence  of  the  cause  in  which  this  same 
reality  is  contained. 

Thus  we  have  only  to  determine  the  contents  of  our 
ideas,  and  to  state  these  contents  clearly  and  distinctly, 
and  we  have  the  means  of  determining  existence.  From 
the  necessary  connexion  between  ideas  and  their 
causes  we  have  only  to  know  the  ideas,  and  the 
knowledge  of  the  causes  follows  of  necessity ;  the 
perfection  of  a  thing  will  be  found  in  its  first  and 
total  cause.  Unless  we  carry  with  us  this  axiom, 
and  the  stress  laid  on  it  by  Descartes,  we  shall  not 
appreciate,  at  its  real  value,  the  statement  of  the  proof 
for  the  existence  of  God.  In  virtue  of  this  axiom 
we  have  only  to  show  that  we  have  an  idea  in   our 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  67 

minds — a  clear,  definite,  and  distinct  idea,  and  the 
objective  reference  follows  of  necessity.  All  ideas 
have  been  sifted  by  him  through  the  operation  of 
doubt,  and  only  those  which  have  survived  the  sifting 
process  remain.  These  survivals  of  the  fittest  have 
the  properties  of  clearness,  distinctness,  self-evidence, 
and  necessity,  which  guarantee  them  as  the  legitimate 
fruit  of  the  lumen  naturale,  and  we  accept  them  as 
indubitable.  In  virtue  of  the  axiom  on  which  we 
have  spoken  we  pass  from  these  ideas,  thus  certified, 
to  the  real  existence  of  the  causes  of  these  ideas.  It 
is  a  short  and  easy  method,  and  one  which,  he  thinks, 
can  easily  surmount  the  absolute  difference  which 
separates  mind  from  matter.  But  in  truth,  when 
he  brings  the  principle  of  causality  to  bear  on  the 
question,  and  when  he  has  put  his  axioms  into  harness, 
the  difference  between  mind  and  matter,  on  which  such 
stress  was  laid  in  other  references,  seems  to  disappear. 
For  ideas  are  the  copy  of  reality,  and  if  we  have  the 
copy  we  can  know  or  infer  the  character  of  the  reality. 
At  this  point,  again,  comes  in  the  reference  to  the 
veracity  of  the  First  Great  Cause,  for  there  is  a 
necessity  for  a  guarantee  for  the  correspondence 
between  the  copy  and  the  reality.  It  becomes  some- 
what monotonous. 

Ideas  thus  possessed  are  available,  in  virtue  of  the 
axiom,  for  the  determination  of  existence.  But  he  had 
seen  the  need  of  discrimination  among  ideas.  Not  all 
ideas  are  available  for  the  determination  of  existence. 
Only  those  ideas  which  are  clear  and  distinct  have  the 
note  of  certainty.  Only  those  ideas,  in  other  words, 
which  cannot  be  doubted  have  a  bearing  on  objective 
reality.     I  am  certain  of  my  own  existence:  How  is 


68  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

that  certainty  to  be  extended  to  the  world  of  things 
and  to  God  ?  Is  there  any  being  without  me,  the 
existence  of  which  may  be  as  clear  and  indubitable 
as  my  own  existence  ?  This  raises  the  Cartesian  ques- 
tion in  its  most  general  form.  He  w^as  aware  of  the 
problem ;  he  recurs  to  it  again  and  again,  both  in  his 
systematic  works  and  in  his  Answers  to  Objections. 
At  one  time  he  sets  himself  to  examine  the  ideas  he 
finds  in  his  mind.  He  subjects  them  all  to  a  rigid  dis- 
crimination. He  refers  them  to  their  sources.  Some 
he  finds  to  be  native  to  the  mind,  or  innate ;  some  have 
been  voluntarily  formed ;  and  a  great  many  have  been 
manifestly  received  from  an  external  source.  First  of 
all,  there  is  the  fundamental  certainty  that  I  exist.  "  It 
is  true,  perhaps,  that  those  very  things  which  I  suppose 
to  be  non-existent,  because  they  are  unknown  to  me,  are 
not  in  truth  different  from  myself  whom  I  know.  This 
is  a  point  I  cannot  determine,  and  do  not  now  enter 
into  any  dispute  regarding  it.  I  can  only  j  udge  of  things 
that  are  known  to  me  :  I  am  conscious  that  I  exist, 
and  I  who  know  that  I  exist  inquire  into  what  I  am. 
It  is,  however,  perfectly  certain  that  the  knowledge  of 
my  existence,  thus  precisely  taken,  is  not  dependent  on 
things,  the  existence  of  which  is  as  yet  unknown  to  me ; 
and  consequently  it  is  not  dependent  on  any  of  the 
things  I  can  feign  in  imagination"  (Veitch,  p.  108). 
He  is  a  thinking  being,  and  true  knowledge  is  possible 
only  to  thought.  It  is  through  thought  alone  that 
our  ideas  of  things  can  become  clear  and  distinct,  and 
attain  to  certainty. 

I  can  at  least  be  sure  that  every  conception  I  have 
is  my  conception.  And  every  conception  proves  that 
I  am,  for  it  is  mine.     But  can  I  be  sure  that  this  body 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  69 

exists  because  I  touch  it.  May  it  not  be  a  mere 
imagination  or  a  dream  ?  Even  if  it  be  an  imagination 
or  a  dream,  I  who  touch  it  do  exist.  After  insisting 
at  length  on  this  fact,  as  he  thinks  it  to  be,  he  goes  on 
to  inquire  into  the  character  of  the  objects  which  are 
commonly  thought  to  be  most  distinctly  known.  For 
the  sake  of  clearness  he  takes  not  bodies  in  general, 
but  one  body,  and  selects  a  piece  of  wax.  He  traces  it 
through  all  the  changes  through  which  the  piece  of 
wax  may  be  supposed  to  pass.  When  we  examine  it 
we  find  in  it  somewhat  of  the  sweetness  of  the  honey 
it  contained,  something  of  the  odour  of  the  flowers 
from  which  it  was  gathered ;  colour,  figure,  size  are 
there:  it  is  hard,  cold, — in  short,  all  the  attributes 
of  body  are  present  in  the  bit  of  wax.  But  place  it 
near  the  fire  and  it  melts.  The  properties  of  the  wax 
change  as  we  look.  What  remains  is  something  ex- 
tended, ductile,  changeable,  something  which  may  pass 
into  an  endless  series  of  forms.  "  What,  then,  is  the 
piece  of  wax  that  can  only  be  perceived  by  the  mind  ? 
It  is  certainly  the  same  which  I  see,  touch,  imagine ; 
and,  in  fine,  it  is  the  same  which,  from  the  beginning, 
I  believed  it  to  be.  But  (and  this  is  of  moment  to 
observe)  the  perception  of  it  is  neither  an  act  of  sight, 
of  touch,  or  of  imagination,  and  never  was  either  of 
these,  though  it  might  formerly  seem  so,  but  is  simply 
an  intuition  (inspection)  of  the  mind,  which  may  be 
imperfect  and  confused,  as  it  formerly  was,  or  very 
clear  and  distinct,  as  it  is  at  present,  according  as  the 
attention  is  more  or  less  directed  to  the  elements  which 
it  contains,  and  of  which  it  is  composed"  (Veitch, 
p.  112). 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  way  to  a  clear  and  distinct 


70  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

conception  of  body  is  to  analyse  it  into  its  elements, 
and  to  attend  to  these  elements  so  that  we  may  obtain 
clear,  intuitions  of  them.  As  for  these  ideas,  the  sources 
of  which  are  without,  are  not  the  presentations  of  the 
senses  effects  and  copies  of  things  without  us?  Are 
not  the  copies  indubitable  evidence  of  the  existence 
of  their  causes?  It  is  easier  to  ask  this  question 
than  to  answer  it.  The  presentations  of  the  senses  are 
never  false.  But  I  may  err  in  the  interpretation  of 
them.  I  may  think  of  the  sun  as  a  round  disc  that 
moves  of  itself,  or  I  may  think  of  it  as  the  centre  of 
the  solar  system.  There  is  the  presentation  and  there 
is  the  interpretation  of  it;  and  while  the  one  is  not 
false,  the  other  may  be.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  the 
common  sense  of  mankind  has  declared  that  the  pre- 
sentations of  sense  are  related  to  external  objects. 
But  Descartes  affirms  that  if  any  of  our  ideas  is  to 
make  us  certain  of  the  existence  of  things  beyond 
us,  it  is  not  sensation  which  can  assure  us  of  this 
existence.  No  doubt  our  sensations  are  not  subject 
to  our  will,  and  by  a  natural  instinct  we  refer  them 
to  the  object  outside  of  us;  but  these  instincts  are  not 
infallible,  and,  though  sensations  are  involuntary,  it  is 
possible  that  they  may  arise  from  the  conditions  of 
our  nature.  Even  as  effects  produced  on  us  by  ex- 
ternal objects,  it  does  not  follow  that  they  are  copies 
of  their  causes,  for  an  effect  may  be  unlike  its  cause. 
From  the  sensational  point  of  view,  Descartes  con- 
cludes that  we  have  no  certain  knowledge  that  there 
is  a  world  outside  of  us.  How,  then,  do  we  come  to 
know  that  there  is  an  external  world  ? 

In  his  answer  to  this  question  Descartes  falls  back 
on  the  principle   of   causality.     This   is   a   clear   and 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  71 

distinct  conception ;  and  it  is  certain  that  from  nothing, 
nothing  comes ;  and  that  everything  is  the  effect  of  a 
producing  cause.  The  cause  can  never  be  less  than 
the  effect.  It  may  cont^ain  more  reality  than  the 
effect :  it  can  never  contain  less.  The  artist  is  greater 
than  his  work,  since  in  him  there  is  something  which 
he  has  not  put  into  his  work.  Or,  to  state  the  case 
of  equality  between  effect  and  cause,  there  is  the  form 
and  its  impression.  The  causa  eminens  is  illustrated 
in  the  former  case,  the  causa  formalis  in  the  latter. 
If  we  have  an  idea  in  our  minds  which  contains  a 
reality  greater  than  our  nature,  then  it  cannot  have 
come  from  ourselves :  it  must  have  an  external  source. 
Have  we  such  ideas  ? 

To  answer  in  detail  would  take  us  too  long.  He 
examines  a  number  of  ideas,  and  concludes  that  if 
there  is  found  in  an  idea  something  which  is  not  in 
its  cause  it  must,  of  course,  derive  this  from  nothing. 
"I  am  thus  clearly  taught  by  the  natural  light  that 
ideas  exist  in  me  as  pictures  or  images,  which  may 
in  truth  readily  fall  short  of  the  perfections  of  the 
objects  from  which  they  are  taken,  but  can  never 
contain  anything  greater  or  more  perfect"  (Veitch, 
pp.  122,  123).  The  conclusion  is  thus  stated:  "If  the 
objective  reality  [or  perfection]  of  any  one  of  my  ideas 
be  such  as  clearly  to  convince  me,  that  the  same  reality 
exists  in  me  neither  formally  nor  eminently,  and  if,  as 
follows  from  this,  I  myself  cannot  be  the  cause  of  it, 
it  is  a  necessary  consequence  that  I  am  not  alone  in 
the  world,  but  that  there  is  besides  myself  some  other 
being  who  exists  as  the  cause  of  that  idea :  while,  on 
the  contrary,  if  no  such  idea  be  found  in  my  mind, 
I  shall  have  no  sufficient  ground  of  assurance  of  the 


72  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

existence  of  any  other  being  besides  myself ;  for,  after 
a  most  careful  search,  I  have,  up  to  this  moment, 
been  unable  to  discover  any  other  ground"  (p.  123). 
He  examines  in  this  light  the  ideas  he  finds  within 
himself.  To  what  may  be  described  as  the  secondary 
qualities  of  matter,  to  ideas  connected  with  them  he 
finds  that  he  does  not  need  to  assign  any  author 
beside  himself.  Ideas  of  matter  which  are  clear 
and  distinct,  such  as  those  of  substance,  duration, 
number,  he  might  have  taken  from  the  idea  of  him- 
self. As  to  extension,  figure,  situation,  and  motion  :  "  It 
is  true  that  they  are  not  formally  in  me,  since  I  am 
merely  a  thinking  being;  but  because  they  are  only 
certain  modes  of  substance,  and  because  I  myself  am 
a  substance,  it  seems  possible  that  they  may  be  con- 
tained in  me  eminently"  (p.  125). 

Thus  what  we  represent  to  ourselves  by  way  of  the 

Q  senses  as  qualities  of  reality  is  neither  clear  nor  dis- 
tinct, and  contains  less  reality  than  is  contained  in  our 
thinking  nature.  In  truth,  what  we  perceive  in  them 
may  be  contained  in  our  thinking  nature,  or  may  be 
derived  from  it.     So  he  comes  to  the  conclusion,  "  that 

D  the  cause  and  the  origin  of  my  conceptions  of  finite 
being  need  not  exist  without  me.  If,  in  regard  to 
all  finite  being,  I  am  not  clearly  convinced  that  I 
cannot  be  myself  the  source  and  origin  of  my  own 
ideas,  is  there  any  idea  the  source  and  origin  of  which 
cannot  be  in  me  either  formally  or  eminently  ? "  He 
has  proved  to  his  own  satisfaction  that  modes  of  sub- 
stance, being  less  than  substance,  may  be  conceived 
by  the  mind  from  itself.  As  regards  substance  of  a 
finite  kind,  it  is  not  clear  that  it  can  contain  any 
perfection  greater  than  the  mind,  which  is  itself  sub- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  73 

stance,  and  so,  from  the  view  of  substance  and  of 
modes  in  finite  being,  there  is  nothing  to  compel  the 
mind  to  conceive  of  absolute  perfection.  But  I  do 
have  an  idea  of  perfection.  As  this  idea  must  have 
a  cause,  what  is  the  cause  of  it  ?  It  has  not  come 
from  the  mind  itself,  as  I  am  a  finite  being,  subject 
to  error  and  far  from  perfect.  The  principle  of  caus- 
ality is  clear  and  distinct,  as  clear  and  distinct  as  the 
principle  of  all  certainty,  because  it  is  impossible  for 
us  to  think  and  not  to  be.  But  the  principle  of  caus- 
ality involves  the  principle  that  the  cause  of  a  concep- 
tion has  more  reality  than  we  have  in  ourselves.  The 
idea  of  perfection  cannot  be  derived  from  finite  being, 
neither  from  the  world  nor  from  ourselves  ;  but  the  idea 
is  there — we  are  not  the  cause  of  it,  and  it  must  have 
a  cause.  There  must  therefore  be  a  Being  without 
us  who  must  have  all  the  perfections  which  we  con- 
ceive as  belonging  to  Him.  Thus  we  come  again  to 
the  necessity  of  the  existence  of  a  God.  We  have 
seen  how  imperative  is  this  need  on  the  theory  of 
Descartes.  God  is  needed  for  many  reasons.  Let  us 
look  now  at  the  way  in  which  Descartes  endeavours 
to  justify  the  need. 


CHAPTER   IV 

The  Steps  of  the  Argument  for  the  Existence  of  God — The 
Knowledge  of  Self  gives  the  Knowledge  of  God — The  Notion 
of  the  Infinite  a  Positive  Notion — Reality  not  explicable 
from  the  Notion  of  Contingent  and  Possible  Existence — What 
the  Conception  of  God  is — Truth  and  Error — Understanding 
and  Will — Final  Cause  rejected — Relation  of  God  to  Mind 
and  to  Matter — Cause  and  Effect — Reason  and  Consequent. 

The  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  is  the  essential 
princrpfe^ef^e  Cartesian  philos6phyr3Jirlt~G^ 
depends.  The  principle?"trf-resctity  and  the  veracity 
of  God  are  for  Descartes  principles  ^hich-conaiiitute 
,th^jEoundation^ knowledge,  and  are  the  main  support 
of  the  remainder  of  the  system.  We  have  the  various 
elements  of  the  proof  set  forth  in  various  ways.  When 
he  leads  us  along  the  path  which  he  took  in  his  search 
for  truth,  and  proceeds  analytically  in  the  exposition 
of  his  system,  as  he  has  done  in  the  Discourse  on 
Method  and  in  his  Meditations,  he  states  first  the 
certainty  of  self -consciousness  and  its  implications. 
Briefly  and  in  outline  it  is  this :  we  exist  and  we  have 
the  idej^of  a  most  perfect  Being :  and,  as  we  are_ 
ourselv2S_Jmperfect^  us — 

_ itjim§t  thf^ref ore_jiave  a__gause.  ThaTtg^ne  fee  of 
exposition  pretty  frequently  expressed  in  his  various 
works. 

74 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  75 

When,  however,  he  proceeds  synthetically;,  as  in  the 
Answers  to  the  Second  OBjectioiis  and  in  the  Principles,     ^ 
he  begins  with  the  ontologicalargument  a>nd  sets  forth    /L  ■ 
the  idea  of  God  as  an  axiom,' from  which  all  else  flows 

v^asj  consequence"     The  argument  of  Descartes  is  often 
identified   witlT  the   ontological    argument    associated 
witli^  the  name  of  Anselm,  and  also  with  subsequent 
arguments   of  the  same   ^ind.     While   there   are  re- 
semblances there  are  also  differences  between  the  two 
At  all  events,  Descartes,  who  shows  his  acquaintance 
with  the  scholastic  argument,  was  persuaded  that  th^ 
objections  to  it  did  not  touch  his  own  argument.    Froni/^/ 
the^nselmic  argumen^it  would  appear  that  from  the^ 
mere  idea  of  (iod  His  existence  followed,  j  ust  as  surely 
as   from  the  idea  of   a  triangle   the   properties  of   a 
triangle  followed.    Either  He  is  the  most  perfect  Being 
or  He  is  nothing  at  all.     But  He  would  not  be  the- 
most  perfect  Being  if  He  lacked  anything,  or  if  the  note 
of    reality   did    not    attach   to   Him.     But   the    fatal 
objection  was  taken,  Why  should  existence  as  thought  j^aX^ 
be  existence  in  reality.     Our  idea  of  God  is  &  cqxi=l^ 
ception:   are  we   to   hold  that   a  conceived^  object  is 

^necesgarjiy  rpai  '^     \  )n^  fiiA  nnnoppfinn  nf  God  stand  on 

^a^ different  footing  from  all  other  conceptions?  At  the 
best,  a  conception  only  implies  the  possible"  existence 

.  of  the* conceived  object.  According  to  the  ontological 
proof,  as  stated  _by  Ansplm,  God  alone  fornis^ 
exception  to  this  rule.  This  form  of  the  proof  failed 
to  show  that  the  id^  of  God  is  a  necessary  one, 
inseparably  bound  up  with  the  very  nature  of  man, 
and  imbedded  in  human  nature  as  such. 

Pesfi_artes_thought  that  he  did  ground  the  idea  of 
God  in  the  very  nature  of  man,  and  had  proved  it  to  be 


^e  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

a  necessary  conception.  Let  us  trace  the  steps  of  his 
argument.  The  discipline  of  doubt  had  left  us  with 
one  certainty.  If  we  doubt,  we  are.  This  is  clear  and 
distinct,  and  gives  us  the  principle  that  truth  consists 
in  clearness  and  distinctness  of  knowledge.  Then  we^ 
have  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  the  principle  ol 
causality.  But  the  principle  of  causality  assures  us 
that  the  cause  must  at  least  be  equal  to  the  effect.  In 
factj  the  cause  of  a  conception  must  contain  more 
reality  than  the  effect.  Thus  wejiavfith^-idea^gf  Go^^ 
and  the  cause  of  the  idea  of  God  is  God  Himself.     We 


e^ostandwe  have  the  idea  ofGodTTiow^did  we  obtain 
that  idea?  Did  we  ourselves  produce  tKat  idea  ? 
Descartes  is  at  pains  to  prove  that  we  cannot  be  the 
cause  of  the  idea  of  perfection  which  we  have.  From 
the  nature  of  causality  we  must  be  perfect  to  produce 
the  idea  .of  perfection.  But  w^e  are  finite  :  bow  can  we 
have  the^  conception  of  "the"  mfiiiitB^ f'nve  are  relative : 
Tiow  could  we  reaclT "the~idea  of  the'^bsolute  ?  we  are 
imperfect,  and  yet  we  have  the  idea  of  perfection. 
"Even  if  we  have  the  capacity  of  becoming  perfect,  yet 
what  is  required  is  not  capacity  but  actuality.  There 
Trinsf,  bA  fl.  rmisp.  ^(\v  f.he  idea  of  God,  and  we  cannot  be_ 
that  cause,-  — 

^But  the  principle  of  causality  is  a  principle  of  being 
as  well  as  of  thinking.  We  may  ask  what  is  the  cause 
of  our  being.  Can  the  cause  of  my  existence  be  a 
being  who  is  not  perfect  ?  Had  I  made  myself  I  might 
have  given  myself  all  conceivable  perfection.  But  I 
have  not  made  myself,  nor  can  I  conserve  myself,  for  I 
am  not  the  cause  of  my  own  existence.  "..Erom..th-e_fact 
alone_thatJL_amj  and  JiaYfi-thejdea  of  a  most  perfect_ 
Being,  or  God,  it  fojlows  with  complete  clearness  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  'j^ 

God  also  exists."  We  have  this  idea;  we  have  not 
received  \i  through  tTie  sensed,  "we  H"^^  received^  it 
immediatelv  K-oiiT  God.  "  It  is  not  even  a  pure  produc- 
tion or  fiction  of  my  mind,  for  it  is  not  in  my  power 
to  take  from  or  add  to  it ;  and  consequently,  there  but 
remains  the  alternative  that  it  is  innate,  in  the  same 
way  as  is  the  idea  of  myself.  And  in  truth,  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at  that  Jaod,  at  my  creation,  implanted 
this  idea  in  me,  that  it  might  serve,  as  it  were,  for  tlie 
mark  of  the  workman  impressed  on  his^_work :  and 
it  is  not  also  necessary  that  the  mark  should  be  some- 
thing different  from  the  work  itself;  but,  considering 
o^nly  that  God  is  my_Creator,  it  is  highly  probable  that 

jle  in  some  way  fashioned  me  after  His  own  image 
and  likeness,  and  that  I  perceive  this  likeness,  in  which 

l^s  contained  the  idea  of  God,  by  the  same  faculty  by~~ 
which  i  apprehend  Imyserf,-— in  other"  words,  wEen  T  \ 
make  myself  the  object  of '  reflection,  I  not  only  find 
that  I  am  an  imperfect  and  dependent  being,  and  one 
who  unceasingly  aspires  after  something  better  and 
greater  than  he  is ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  I  am  assured 
likewise  that  He  upon  whom  I  am  dependent  possesses 
in  Himself  all  the  good  after  which  I  aspire,  and  that 
not  merely  indefinitely  and  potentially,  but  infinitely 
and  actually,  and  that  He  is  thus  God  "  (Veitch,  pp.  131, 
132).  Descartes  himself  expressly  says  that  the  force 
of  the  proof  consists  in  this,jthat  he  himself,  with  the 
idea  of  God  in  him,  could  not  exist  if  God  in  reality 
we^  not:  "l''hat  if  the  God  Whom  he  conceives,  the 
JBeing  who  has  all  the  perfections  which  he  does  not 
comprehend.  Whom  he  can  only  touch  afar  off  with 
his  thoughts,  the  Being  who  is  removed  from  all  kinds 
of  imperfection,  did  not  exist,  then  there  was  realljL 


78  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

no  certainty,  no  true  knowledge,  and  no  real  exist- 
ence. 

Here,  then,  there  is  something  different  from  the 
scholastic  a^ument.  Descartes  tries  to  groundjiis 
argument  in  ^uman  experience.  TJieidea  ofGod^he 
contends,  is  given  us  in  our  inner  experience,  the  idea 
is  there  in  the  midst  of  our  world  of  ideas.  The  know- 
ledge^of_self  gives  the  knowledge  oj  God.  W^^™^ot 
get,jid  of  the  id£a,.of^perfection,lind  ihe  idea  of~ar 
jgerfect  Being  is^thejdeaof  (iod7  "  By  the  name  God 
I  understand  a  substance  infinite,  independent,  all- 
knowing,  all-powerful,  and  by  which  I  myself,  anS 
every  other  thing  that  exists,  if  any  such  there  be, 
were  created.  But  these  properties  are  so  great  and 
excellent  that  the  more  attentively  I  consider  them 
the  less  I  feel  persuaded  that  the  idea  of  them  owes 
its  origin  to  myself  alone.  And  thus  it  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  conclude,  from  all  that  I  have  before  said, 
that  God  exists :  for  though  the  idea  of  substance  be  in 
my  mind  owing  to  this,  that  I  myself  am  a  substance, 
I  should  not,  however,  have  the  idea  of  an  infinite 
substance,  seeing  I  am  a  finite  being,  unless  it  were 
given  me  by  some  substance  in  reality  infinite  "  (Veitch, 
pp.  125,  126). 

At  this  point  we  are  reminded  of  the  laboured 
argumentation  of  &milton,  Mansel,  and  Spencer,  and 
the  position  they  havB^-takeri  that  knowledge  of  the 
absolute  and  the  infinite  is  impossible.  These  are 
merely  negative  notions,  they  say,  and  if  we  try  to 
^     think  them  we  fall  into  contradictions.     They  define 

a-   tJTP__flJ2^nlTTfft^^^thflt  whiVh    is   nnf,  nf_fl11_jrAlgfj^^Ti^flT^ 

v^    4be  infinite^as_that  whif^h  h^^s  nr> Ji'mi'fs     This  is  not 
the   place   to  argue   the   question.     We  mention  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  79 

movement  of  modern  thought  because  we  wish  to  say 
that  the  objections  based  on  it  had  been  clearly  before 
the  mind  of  Descartes  and  had  been  dealt  with  by  him. 
^  He  affirms,  in  virtue  of  the  axiom  of  causality,  that 
ideas  of  which  we  are  in  possession  are  available  for 
the  determination  of  existence.  He  affirms. that  he  has 
an  idea  qf^th_e_.absohite  aiid^  the^^ 
Tnmielf  whatjs  the  difference  in  cjont^iiL  hetw_e.en .  thg_ 
Fdea  of   the   absolute  and  the^  relative^  betweeiL  the 


infinite  and_the  finite.  Is  the  absolute  contradictory 
of  the  relative?  Is  the  infinite  the  negative  of  the 
finite  ?  He  considers  the  question,  and  his  answer 
virtually  is  that  we  have  the  idea  of  finite  and  relative 
existence,  but  in  addition  we  have  a  positive  conception 
of  infinite  and  absolute  existenca  Reality  to  him  is 
"Tiof  Tinite  ~ahH"  relatives  it  is'  infinite,  ^igolute.  His 
argument  points  to  the  conclusion,  though  he  does  not 
give  it  formal  expression,  that  finite  and  infinite, 
absolute  and  relative,  involve  one  another;  that  we 
cannot  apprehend  the  relative  or  the  finite  without 
apprehending  along  with  them  the  absolute  and  the 
infinite.  It  is  an  important  position,  and  ought  to 
have  had  a  greater  influence  on  subsequent  speculation 
than  that  which  it  really  had.  It  may  have  been  that 
the  exposition  of  it  by  Descartes  was  defective,  that 
he  made  the  distinction  mainly  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
and  did  not  ground  it  in  principle.  At  all  events,  the 
statement  is  important,  and  we  quote  it.  "  I  must  not 
imagine  that  I  do  not  apprehend  the  infinite  by  a  true 
idea,  but  only  by  the  negation  of  the  finite,  in  the  same 
way  that  I  comprehend  repose  and  darkness  by  the 
negation  of  motion  and  light;  since,  on  the  contrary, 
I  clearly  perceive  that  there   is  more  reality  in  the 


80  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

infinite  substance  than  in  the  finite,  and  therefore  that 
in  some  way  I  possess  the  perception  (notion)  of  the 
infinite  before  that  of  the  finite,  that  is,  the  perception 
of  God  before  that  of  myself,  for  how  could  I  know 
"tEat'T  doubt,  desire,  or  that  something  is  wanting  to 
me,  and  that  I  am  not  wholly  perfect,  if  I  possessed  no 
idea  of  a  Being  more  perfect  than  myself,  by  compar- 
ison of  which  I  knew  the  deficiencies  of  my  nature  ? " 
(Veitch,  p.  126). 

By  this  we  see  that  Descartes  looked  at  j^i^nfinite 
as  the  positive  idea,  not  obtained  by  negativing  the 
finite,  but  by  negativing  the  limitations  and  imperfec- 
tions which  belong  to  the  very  finiteness  of  the  finite. 
Descartes  did  not  unfold  the  full  meaning  of  the 
situation  involved  in  the  statement,  "  I  had  the  per-, 
>j3eption  of  God  before  that  of  myself/  H  he  had  he 
would  have  anticipated  some  of  the  most  characteristic 
positions  of  the  philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  real  meaning  of  his  principle  is,  that  the  self -con- 
sciousness of  the  finite  being  is  bound  up  with  the 
consciousness  of  God,  and  that  the  apprehension  of  the 
finite  and  relative  involves  the  apprehension  of  the 
absolute  and  the  infinite. 

Complete,  absolute,  and  infinite  reality  cannot  be 
explained  from  the  idea  of  contingent  and  of  possible 
existence.  Thus  the  first  element  in  the  Cartesian  proof 
of  the  existenceo^  God  is  simply  this,  that  the  idea  of 
Tabsoiute^  and"  com^p-to.  rp,a1jty_i:^Lanot  bejxpIaiHe^nSy 
reference  to  finite  and  limited  ideas.  He  has  "Hemon- 
strated  that  he  is^npossessjxtn  of  the  I'd^  of  a  complete^ 
and  perfect  Bejng,_but  is  this  merely  an  idea  among 
others  in  his  possession  ?  Am  I  constrained  to  regard 
this  idea  as  a  proof  of  the  divine  causality,  and  con- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  8i 

sequently  of  the  divine  existence  ?     As  I  am  certain  of 
myself  I  ought,  if  this  argument  is  to  be  conclusive,  to  be 
sure  that  this  idea  is  not  caused  by  me,  but  is  the  effect 
of  God  in  me.     The  steps  of  the  argument  are,  that  this 
idea  is  necessary,  and  that  it  cannot  be  accounted  for  by 
""me  or  anything  in  me.     f!Qr_an  imperfect  being  cannot 
'^oduce  the  conception  of  a  perfect  Being.     It  is  not 
""merely  that  we  Tiave  t¥e~cdnception  of  a  perfect  Being, 
this  was  the  sole  content  of  the  Anselmic  proof ;  it  is 
that  we  have  this  conception  while  we  ourselves  are 
imperfect     Thus  the  proof  of  the  existenca  rests  on 
self-knowledge.     Thus"  Descartes-  supplies  to  the  formal 
ontologicaT^rgument  the  starting-point  of  its  signi- 
ficance —  that   from    the   very   nature    of  man  he    is 
constrained  to  conceive  a  perfect  Being ;  and  this  con- 
jception  isnot  the  product  of  man,  but  the  result  and 
effect  of  the  causality  of  God,  and  therefore  it  is  a 

proof  of  Llie  divine  ei^istence'     ' ""  -^ 

^^  6rHS=ad£a  of  God  must  therefore  be  necessary  or, 
original,  and  it  must  be  of  diyTnJS^origm.  ThesB'ltr? 
theJ;wo  conditions  of  th^  Qprtesian  proof.  UPtimately 
it  really  comes  to  this :  that  as  the  certainty  of  self  is 
an  intuition  contained  in  the  fact  of  self -consciousness, 
so  the  certainty  of  God  is  given  in  the  consciousness  of 
the  idea  of  God.  The  successive  delineations  of  the 
contents  of  the  proof  are  not  so  much  steps  in  the 
argument  as  the  unfolding  of  the  contents  of  the  idea 
»  of  God,  and  the  discovery  of  the  fact  that  existence  is 
contained  in  the  conception.  Thus  self- consciousness 
and  the  consciousness  of  God  are  aspects  of  the  same 
intuition ;  and  they  belong  together. 

We  are  apt  to  do  injustice  to  the  argument  of  Des- 
cartes by  certain  modes  of  stating  it.     It  is  necessary 

.i  6 


^i^'} 


/M  A, 


82 


DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 


to  state  it  consecutively,  ^^dj^ojoa^s^fromseK^fiei^taiu^ 
tojoaoisality,  and  fronicaugality  to  the  ontological  proof  ^ 
ofjbhe-^si^t^ce ;  but  these  are  not  to  Descartes  steps 
in  a  consecutive  chain  of  reasoning,  they  are  rather 
elements  in  one  complex  intuition.  They  are  not 
separable  in  reality,  though  they  have  been  stated  one 
after  another.  Universal  doubt  had  revealed  to  him 
his  thinking  nature  and  its  imperfection.  He  grasped 
the  one_certainty,  and  out  of  it  flowed  the  conscious- 

^ness  of  his  imperfection,  and  the  implied  consciousness 
that  there  must  be^erfec^Ton  somewhere.     The  idea 

jrF^thp  perfect^  is  j^i-^^Q^  in  thp,  oonRp.ionsnaMS  of  imper- 
fection.    Tn  ^^^s  waj^TP  connects  the  idea  oljjelfwTni 

Jhe,  idea  of  God,  andhe  thinks  that  the  "same  necessity 
belongs  to  DtJttr  ideas.  Connecting  this  conclusion  with 
the  conception  of  the  infinite,  which  we  saw  Descartes 
regards  as  positive,  he  argues  that  the  idea  of  the 
infinite  is  primary  and  original,  and  the  consciousness 
of  imperfection  derivative.  QTo  be  imperfect  is  one 
thiTig^o  know  that  we  are  iinperfect  is  another  thing. 

"•teXj^anjnal^^rTny^own  imperlecti^n^  clearJ^Qjnyself,  I 
can  do  so'''5^3gEin  Tlie  ligTir"ofthe  .idea  of  jperf  ectiohr' 
To  know  my  defects  is  a  work  which  implies  the  work 
of  intelligence.     Iranian  had  not  thft  id^^f^,  of  porfpptinn 

Jin^icitly  wj^fcliinjiis  owii  mind  he^ould  never  comeJiZL 
the^knowledge  of  his  imperfection. 

If  we  had  no  truth  in  our  possession  we  should 
never  have  entered  on  that  process  of  self-examination 
which  led  through  doubt  to  certainty.  Thus  from  the 
idea  of  the  perfect  has  come  the  idea  of  the  imperfect. 
The  perfect  is  first,  and  the  consciousness  of  imper- 
fection is  second.  True,  it  seemed  otherwise  as  we 
proceeded  on  our  way  to  search  for  truth,  but  now. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  83 

Descartes  concludes,  in  our  certainty  of  the  idea  of  God 
all  other  certainty  has  its  foundation.  "  It  is  enough  that 
I  rightly  understand  this,  and  judge  that  all  which  I 
clearly  perceive,  and  in  which  I  know  that  there  is  some 
perfection,  and  perhaps  also  an  infinity  of  properties 
of  which  I  am  ignorant,  are  formally  or  eminently  in 
God,  in  order  that  the  idea  I  have  of  him  may  become 
the  most  true,  clear,  and  distinct  of  all  the  ideas  in  my 
mind"(Veitch,  p.  127). 

Having  concluded  that  God  is,  he  sets  himself  to 
describe  what  He  is.  For  that  is  already  given  in  the 
conception  of  a  perfect  Being.  He^jxiust  possess  all_ 
kinds  of  ;^rf potion.  He  is  absolute  truth,  veracity, 
and  this  ultimate  conception  g^uarantees"  everything: 
I  may~trust  my  presentations,  my  clear  and  distinct 
ideas,  and  may  come  to  a  true  knowledge  of  things. 
What  is  clearly  and  distinctly  apprehended  is  true. 
Descartes  started  with  that  persuasion ;  now,  having 
proved,  as  he  thinks,  the  perfection  of  God,  he  rests 
certainty  on  that  foundation.  Why  do  we  need  this 
additional  guarantee  ?  Descartes  desired  a  guarantee 
of  sufficient  breadth  and  validity  to  guarantee  the 
whole  system  of  knowledge,  and  this  he  found  in  the 
idea  of  God.  If  we  are  to  obtain  knowledge  of 
reality  in  its  wholeness  and  completeness,  then  clear- 
ness and  distinctness  of  perception  needs  to  be  supple-l 
mented. 

This  becomes  more  clear  as  we  follow  Descartes  in 
the  treatment  of  the  problem  of  truth  and  error.  How 
is  error  possible  ?  We  ought  to  remark  that  Descartes 
deals  only  with  one  kind  of  error — intellectual  error. 
^^m\  or  physical  (ivil  is  not  touched  15y~hinL  T^he 
argument  as  conducted  by  him  would  seem  to  rule  out 


84  DESCARTES,   SPINOZA,    AND 

the  possibility  of  error,  ^^^e^cannot  seek  the  source  of 
error_in  God,  nor  in  the  nature  of  our  conceptions.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  we  are  often  in  error, — how  ?  Allerror, 
jie__says.  is  self-deception.  The  possibility  "oierror 
turns  on  the  (Hatinction—between  understanding  and. 
wilir  If  w^-were  compelled  to  affirm  every  true  pro- 
position and  to  deny  every  false  one  we  should  do  so, 
and  we  could  not  err.  But  understanding  is  passive, 
and  will  is  active.  Error  arises  from  our  inclination. 
It  is  rather  difficult  to  define  understanding  and  will, 
as  these  are  used  by  Descartes.  He  held  that  every 
true  and  distinct  perception  must  of  necessity  have 
God  for  its  author,  and  must  be  true.  From  this  point 
of  view  truth  is  eternal,  not  dependent  on  the  finite 
will :  it  flows  from  the  eternal  nature  of  God.  If  this 
be  so,  it  follows  that  error  can  be  explained  only  by 
reference  to  the  active  power  which  exists  along  with^ 
understanding.  He  looks  at  the  understanding  as 
limited,  and  at  will  as  unlimited.  He  regarded  it  as 
the ;  only  faculty,  so  great  that  he  could  not  conceive 
a  greater.  We  are  in  this  position — that  the  source 
of  error  is  not  in  the  understanding,  because  it  is 
dependent  on  God,  and  cannot  be  deceptive.  But 
the  will  also  is  dependent  on  God,  for  he  expressly 
states  that  "  it  is  this  faculty  pre-eminently  by  reason 
of  which  I  believe  I  am  created  in  the  image  of  God." 
It  is  through  the  interaction  of  the  two  that  error 
arises.  If  the  will  in  its  action  were  to  limit  itself 
to  the  sphere  of  clear  and  distinct  ideas,  or  if  it  were 
constrained  to  act  only  in  the  light  of  reason,  error 
would  not  be  possible.  The  will  affirms  this  to  be  true 
where  it  has  no  evidence  of  its  truth.  I  make  a 
judgment  on  insufficient  grounds,  and  I  err ;  I  make  an 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  85 

affirmation  to  others  on  insufficient  grounds,  and  I 
deceive  them.  The  mind  conforms  to  truth  only 
when  it  confines  itself  to  judgments  based  on  clear 
and  distinct  knowledge.  But  the  will  is  free,  and 
makes  groundless  assertions.  The  liability  to  error  is 
grounded  also  in  the  limited  character  of  my  under- 
standing. If  knowledge  were  perfect  we  should  not 
err,  and  if  will  were  altogether  rational  we  should 
not  err;  error  arises  therefore  from  imperfect  know- 
ledge,  combined    with    the    action   of    an    arbitrary 

mE 

iT^is  of  interest  to  note,  that  as  formerly  Descartes 
made  the  essence  of  mind  to  consist  in  thinking,  so 
here  in  the  explanation  of  the  possibility  of  error  he 
really  makes  mind  to  be  pure  will  or  self-determination. 
This  has  an  important  bearing  on  the  Cartesian  idea  of 
God,  or  what  God  is.  The  will  of  God  is  not  deter- 
mined  by  any  end  or  law.  "Quantum  ad  arbitrii 
libertatem,  longe  alia  ejus  ratio  in  deo,  quam  in  nobis ; 
repugnat  enim  Dei  voluntatem  non  f  uisse  ab  seterno  in- 
difFerentem  ad  omnia  quae  facta  sunt,  aut  unquam  fient, 
quia  nullum  bonum,  vel  verum,  nullumve  credendum, 
vel  faciendum,  vel  omittendum  fingi  potest,  cujus  idea 
in  intellectu  divino  prius  fuerit,  quam  ejus  voluntas  se 
determinarit  ad  efficiendum  ut  id  tale  esset :  Neque  hie 
loquor  de  prioritate  temporis,  sed  ne  quidem  prius  fuit 
ordine,  vel  natura,  vel  ratione  ratiocinata,  ut  vocant, 
ita  scilicet  ut  ista  boni  idea  impulerit  Deum  ad  unum 
potius  quam  aliud  eligendum.  Nempe,  exempli  causa, 
non  ideo  voluit  mundum  creare  in  tempore,  quia  vidit 
melius  sic  fore,  quam  si  creasset  ab  aeterno :  nee  voluit 
tres  angulos  trianguli  eequales  esse  duobus  rectis,  quia 
cognovit  aliter  fieri  non  posse,  etc.     Sed  contra,  quia 


S6  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

volait  munduin  creare  in  tempore,  ideo  sic  melius  est, 
quam  si  creatus  fuisset  ab  aeterno :  et  quia  voluit  tres 
angulos  trianguli  necessario  aequales  esse  duobus  rectis, 
idcirco  jam  hoc  verum  est,  et  fieri  aliter  non  potest, 
atque  ita  de  reliquis"  (Resp.  Sextce,  160,  161). 

Even  the  necessary  truths  that  constitute  reason  he 
regards  as  springing  from  God's  determination.  It 
does  not  spring  from  the  nature  of  intelhgence  as  such, 
that  there  should  be  eternal  truths  involved  in  its 
very  structure.  So  we  may  not  argue  from  intelli- 
gence to  the  nature  of  intelligence  as  such ;  for  our 
intelligence^is  due  not  to  the  intelligence  of  God — it  is  , 
due  to  His  determination.  It  was  part  of  his  work  to 
show  that  there  were  clear  and  distinct  ideas  in  the 
human  mind ;  it  was  open  to  him  to  affirm  that  these 
belonged  to  intelligence  as  such,  and  were  constituent 
elements  of  mind  whether  human  or  divine.  But  his 
doctrine  of  self-determination  as  the  very  essence  of 
mind  makes  it  impossible  for  us  to  speak  at  all  of  the 
characteristics  of  reason  as  such. 

Reason  or  self-consciousness  declares  that  it  is  of  its 
very  essence  that  it  has  in  its  possession  eternal  truths 
which  are  constitutive  of  reason  as  such,  and  that  it 
may  make  universal  propositions  true  everywhere  and 
always,  and  of  every  grade  of  being.  It  turns  out, 
however,  that  this  is  a  mistake,  for  truth  is  something 
added  to  reason,  and  united  to  it  in  quite  an  external 
manner  by  the  arbitrary  will  of  God.  The  innate 
ideas  which  he  showed  to  us  as  involved  in  the  very 
nature  of  thinkino;,  and  which  he  used  to  distinguish 
tho^G  ideas  derived  from  the  nature  of  the  thinking 
faculty  from  those  which  have  another  source,  turn 
out  to  have  only  a  limited  universality  and  necessity. 


I 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  87 

What  Descartes  needed  was  a  proof  that  these  truths 
were  such  that  they  were  involved  in  the  very  nature 
of  a  self-conscious  being.  That  ought  to  have  been  the 
conclusion,  and,  looking  at  his  argument  in  itself,  it  is 
the  conclusion.  But  here  we  are  taught  that  by  sheer 
determination  God  declares  that  necessity  should  attach 
to  truth.  Necessary  truth  has  been  determined  for  us, 
and  there  can  be  no  escape  from  the  conclusion  that  the 
necessity  is  purely  relative  to  us,  and  has  no  place  in 
the  nature  of  things. 

It  is  difficult  to  harmonise  all  that  Descartes  has 
written  on  the  relations  between  understanding  and 
will,  whether  in  God  or  in  us.  At  one  time  he  speaks 
as  if  mind  were  pure  thinking,  at  another  time  as  if  it 
were  pure  will  and  activity.  At  one  time  truth  seems 
to  spring  from  divine  action,  and  that  God  does  not  act 
from  reasons.  Again,  he  speaks  as  if  God  may  have 
reasons  or  actions,  but  these  are  inscrutable  to  man. 
"  I  must  not  be  surprised  if  I  am  not  always  capable  of 
comprehending  the  reasons  why  God  acts  as  He  does." 
That  is  one  statement ;  it  is  another  which  is  in  the 
extract  quoted  above,  to  the  effect  that  necessary  truths 
spring  from  God's  determination  and  do  not  precede  it. 
In  the  one  case  he  affirms  ignorance  of  the  reasons  of 
the  divine  action ;  in  the  other,  he  affirms  that  he  knows. 
Still,  the  causes  of  error  arise  when  we  treat  the 
obscure  and  indistinct  as  if  they  were  clear  and 
distinct,  or  if  we  treat  the  unknown  and  unknowable 
as  if  they  were  J^nown  and  knowable.  There  are  in- 
numerable things  in  the  power  of  God  which  transcend 
the  grasp  of  the  mind  of  man,  but  this  affirmation  has 
not  kept  Descartes  from  making  the  statement  that  in 
the  making  and  conserving  of  things  God  does  not  act 


88  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

for  reaso7}s.  Quite  in  keeping  with  this  inconsistency 
is  the  statement  regarding  final  causes,  which  is  thrown 
in  somewhat  gratuitously  in  the  fourth  Meditation. 
The  teleological  explanation  of  things  he  thinks  to  be 
erroneous.  "I  am  convinced  that  the  whole  class  of 
final  causes  can  have  no  place  in  the  explanation  of 
nature,  for  it  seems  to  me  to  be  temerity  to  inquire 
into  the  purpose  of  God."  Yet  this  has  not  hindered 
Descartes  in  other  instances  from  using  the  clue  of 
final  cause  in  order  to  reach  the  meaning  of  certain 
mechanisms  of  nature.  He  believed  in  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  on  the  same  ground  as  Harvey  did — that 
so  provident  a  cause  as  nature  would  not,  without  a 
purpose,  have  set  all  these  valves  in  one  direction. 
He,  like  Bacon,  declared  final  causes  to  be  unknowable ; 
Spinoza  declared  them  to  be  impossible ;  and  the  history 
of  modern  philosophy  declares  the  fatal  consequences  of 
this  conclusion. 

While  Descartes  did  contribute  something  of  worth 
to  the  argument  for  the  being  of  God,  yet  when  we 
inquire  into  what  God  is,  we  find  that  his  method  and 
its  results  have  not  added  anything  to  the  illustration 
of  the  character  of  God.  The  ethical  postulate  of  His 
veracity  is  not  regarded  so  much  for  any  inherent 
worth  it  may  have,  as  for  the  usefulness  it  has  for  the 
working  of  the  system  of  Descartes.  Then  the  exclu- 
sion of  final  cause  from  the  scheme  of  things  shuts  us 
out  from  any  knowledge  of  God  to  be  gathered  from 
nature,  from  history,  or  from  the  life  of  man.  In 
truth,  the  principle  of  causality,  as  conceived  by  Des- 
cartes, made  the  use  of  purpose  useless  and  unjustifiable. 
For,  remember  that  for  him  mind  and  matter  are 
absolute  opposites.      But  God  is  the   cause   of  both. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  89 

How  ?  God  contains  in  Himself  eminenter  all  that  is 
in  mind,  but  only  formoMter  all  that  is  in  matter.  God 
is  mind ;  He  is  only  the  creator  of  matter.  In  truth/By' 
TEe  very  abstractness  of  the  conceptions  of  mind  and 
body  they  can  never  come  into  relation  to  one  another, 
yet  it  is  only  in  relation  to  one  another  that  they  have 
a  meaning.  Cause,  also,  is  looked  on  by  Descartes  as 
something  working  from  without,  a  mere  external 
connection.  It  took  a  long  period  of  reflection  to 
arrive  at  a  rational  conception  of  cause,  and  to  see 
that  it  is  only  in  relation  to  change  that  it  has  a 
meaning.  But  to  dwell  on  that  would  lead  us  too  far 
afield. 

Apart  from  these  diflSculties,  Descartes  believed  that 
in  our  consciousness  of  God  he  had  found  a  principle 
on  which  he  could  found  not  only  subjective  certainty, 
but  also  objective  fact.  If  he  left  unclear  the  relation 
of  God  to  finite  mind  and  to  the  world,  he  still  thought 
that  in  regarding  God  as  cause  of  all  things  he.  ha^l 
founTVworking "principle.  The  character  of  God  as 
cause,  seeing  that  God  i^_trutb^_gnmranteedjyie_tnith 
of  our  valid  experiences.  The  relation  of  cause  and 
eflfect  was,  from  one  point  of  view,  the  relation  between 
God  and  the  world.  But  this  relation  inevitably  led 
again  to  the  conception  of  God  as  will,  and  to  the  con- 
ception of  Him.  as  pure  determination.  But  the  relation 
of  cause  and  effect  is  not  sufficient  for  all  the  purposes 
of  the  Cartesian  system.  For  the  contents  of  our  ideas 
must  be  capable  of  arrangement  in  a  system,  and  in  a 
system  which  can  be  understood.  He  had  himself 
endeavoured  to  begin  with  the  simplest,  most  clear  and 
distinct,  and  most  comprehensive  of  all  ideas,  and  from 
them  set  forth  in  systematic  fashion  the  consequences 


go  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

that  followed.  But  is  this  link  of  connection  that  of 
cause  and  effect?  Apparently  Descartes  thought  so, 
or  rather,  he  seems  not  to  have  distinguished  the  rela- 
tion of  cause  and  effect  from  that  of  reason  and  conse- 
quent. Cartesianism  did  in  the  long  run  identify  the 
two,  and  Descartes  went  far  in  the  same  direction. 
God  as  cause  might  be  regarded  as  pure  will,  but  this 
is  insufficient  if  the  world  of  experience  is  to  be 
explained  from  the  principle  of  ground  and  con- 
sequence. On  this  last  principle  it  would  be  necessary 
to  look  at  God  as  mainly  intelligence,  or  the  principle 
by  which  the  world  is  to  be  intelligently  explained  as 
a  system.  In  any  case,  the  difficulty  remained  for  the 
Cartesian  philosophy  of  passing  from  the  simplicity  of 
the  divine  nature  to  the  manifoldness  of  the  world. 
If  God  is  the  sum  of  all  perfection,  how  can  we  explain 
the  manifoldness  and  imperfection  of  the  finite  ?  By 
what  process,  too,  are  we  to  arrive  at  the  imperfection 
and  finiteness  of  the  world  ?  To  such  questions  as 
these,  Cartesianism  had  no  answer. 

To  explain  the  world  from  the  principle  of  reason 
and  consequent  we  are  led  to  look  at  God  as  the 
o:round  and  reason  of  all  existence,  and  this  is  one  of 
the  positions  of  Descartes.  To  explain  the  world  from 
the  principle  of  cause  and  effect  leads  us  to  think  of 
God  as  power,  as  will,  as  activity.  This  also  is  found 
in  Descartes.  He,  indeed,  passes  from  one  to  the  other, 
for  he  desires  to  regard  the  will  of  God  as  a  rational 
will.  But  the  exclusion  of  purpose,  and  the  refusal  to 
seek  for  the  divine  meaning  of  the  world,  had  its 
influence  on  the  Cartesian  system.  It  may  be  asked, 
What  was  that  system  ?  He  set  it  forth  in  various 
plans,  and  from  various  points  of  view.     He  is  much 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  91 

concerned  with  first  principles,  and  he  dwells  at  great 
length  on  First  Cause,  the  ground  of  all  existence. 
Metaphysics  or  theology  —  for  either  name  might 
adequately  describe  it — was  the  subject  to  which  he 
gave  most  attention.  But  he  gave  attention  also  to  the 
description  of  consciousness.  Still  this  description  by 
no  means  covers  the  same  ground  as  that  marked  out 
as  the  province  of  psychology. 


CHAPTER    V 

The  two  Sides  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy — Mechanism — Animal 
Automatism — Huxley — Soul  and  Body — Parallelism  or  Inter- 
action ? — Passion — Freedom — A  conscious  Automaton — Sensa- 
tion and  Passion — Teleology — Modern  Forms  of  the  Cartesian 
Doctrine — Dr.  Ward.    5*> 

The  method  of  Descartes  has  led  us  to  the  positions 
ah-eady  described.  It  has  brought  us  face  to  face  with 
questions  and  difficulties  which  he  raised  and  did  not 
solve.  He  had  led  us  through  doubt  to  the  indubitable, 
and  through  the  certainty  of  the  consciousness  of  self 
to  the  certainty  of  the  consciousness  of  God,  and  to 
the  further  certainty,  through  trust  in  the  divine  ver- 
acity, to  the  assurance  of  the  truth  of  our  primary 
experiences.  But  the  question  arose,  whether  we  may 
trust  the  picture  of  the  universe  presented  to  us  by 
consciousness,  and  believe  it  to  be  a  true  likeness  ?  We 
cannot  trace  here  the  various  problems  raised  by  this 
ideal  postulate,  nor  inquire  into  its  subsequent  history. 
It  leads  us  to  the  critical  idealism  of  Kant,  and  straight 
to  the  idealism  which  holds  the  field  so  largely  in  the 
philosophical  schools  of  Britain  and  America. 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  Cartesian  philosophy 
— a  side  which  is  definitely  related  to  the  mechanical 
theory  of  the  universe,  and  to  the  conclusion  that  all 
the  phenomena  of  the  universe  are  explicable  in  terms 

92 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  93 

of  matter  and  motion.  If  critical  idealism  can  be  traced 
to  Descartes,  it  is  equally  certain  that  modern  material- 
ism has  its  roots  in  his  system.  The  dualism  of  the 
Cartesian  system  has  been  the  source  of  a  deeper 
dualism, — to  wit,  the  dualism  that  subsists  between 
the  idealist  and  the  mechanical  schools  of  thought. 
Mind  is  substance  which  has  thinking  as  its  sole 
attribute:  matter  is  substance  which  has  extension 
and  does  not  think.  How  are  we  to  establish  a  rela- 
tionship between  the  two  ?  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
two  are  in  relation  or  in  union  with  one  another  in 
the  organism  of  soul  and  body.  But  from  the  point 
of  view  of  mind  or  of  matter  the  union  is  inexplicable, 
that  is,  on  the  definitions  of  these  as  given  by  Descartes. 
The  difficulty  is  increased  as  we  follow  Descartes  along 
the  lines  of  description  of  the  world  of  mechanism,  in 
which  he  endeavours  to  explain  the  universe  as  the 
outcome  of  matter  and  motion  working  according  to 
law.  He  was  deeply  interested  in  the  discoveries  of 
Galileo,  as  much  as  he  was  in  the  application  of  mathe- 
matics to  figure  and  extension.  He  inferred  from  the 
discoveries  of  Galileo  that  the  universe  was  to  be  ex- 
plained by  the  application  of  law.  He  assumed  that 
it  was  intelligible.  But  the  discovery  of  the  circulation 
of  the  blood,  which  so  impressed  him  that  he  refers  to 
it  again  and  again,  led  him  to  conclude  that  the  human 
body  was  a  mechanism.  Thus  he  concludes  that  wher- 
ever there  was  extension  the  principle  of  mechanical 
law  ruled.  It  was  a  great  advance  on  the  thought  of 
his  time,  and  gave  to  science  that  standing-ground  on 
which  it  was  to  build  its  gigantic  superstructure. 
Whatever  may  be  the  ultimate  relationship  of  thought 
and  fact,  that  is  a  question  which  may  be  neglected 


94  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

for  tlie  time  by  the  worker  who  is  mainly  interested 
in  the  ongoing  of  things  and  in  the  law  and  method 
of  their  interaction.  One  may  neglect  all  other  ques- 
tions in  order  to  ascertain  whether  the  law  of  inverse 
squares  holds  of  all  extended  matter.  And  one  may 
refuse  to  think  of  the  relation  of  soul  and  body  or 
of  the  seat  of  the  soul,  while  he  is  seeking  to  under- 
stand the  principles  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood. 
He  may  conclude  that  mechanical  laws  hold  good  for 
mechanisms,  and  may  rejoice  in  the  accurate  state- 
ment of  these  laws,  without  prejudice  to  the  further 
question  of  the  relations  of  these  laws  to  purpose 
and  intelligence.  Thus  one  section,  influenced  by 
Descartes,  followed  out  the  impulse  to  mechanical 
investigation  given  by  him,  while  the  difficulties  of 
a  mechanical  scheme  of  thouo^ht  did  not  occur  to  them 
until  they  sought  to  make  it  a  principle  of  exhaustive 
explanation  of  all  experience.  It  was  then  seen  that 
the  antitheses  of  mind  and  matter,  of  soul  and  body, 
were  not  exhaustive;  that  these  had  to  be  discarded 
as  ultimate  references,  and  to  give  place  to  the  more 
fruitful  thought  of  the  relation  of  subject  and  object 
in  the  unity  of  one  experience. 

It  is  quite  true  that  Descartes  did  not  rightly  appre- 
hend the  principles  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  He 
thought  that  the  motion  of  the  blood  was  due  to  the 
heat  which  he  supposed  to  be  generated  in  the  heart. 
Though  he  w^as  mistaken  in  this,  yet  he  was  right  in 
regarding  the  circulation  of  the  blood  to  be  as  mechan- 
ical as  the  working  of  a  clock  is.  He  applied  the 
principle  of  mechanism  as  far  as  it  was  applicable. 
What  are  the  extents  and  limits  of  mechanical  explana- 
tion is  another  question,  and  whether  it  is  ever  ex- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  95 

plicable  without  reference  to  meaning  and  purpose 
is  one  of  the  vexed  questions  of  philosophy  at  present. 

It  is  true,  also,  that  Descartes  made  mistakes  in  the 
kinds  of  mechanisms  and  in  the  character  of  the 
mechanical  laws  by  which  he  endeavoured  to  explain 
the  movements  within  the  universe,  but  that  does  not 
interfere  with  the  service  he  did  in  removing  from 
the  ongoing  of  things  in  the  universe  the  notion  of 
chance  or  of  arbitrariness  and  caprice.  He  brought 
to  the  consciousness  of  the  human  mind  the  conviction 
that  properties  of  things  were  constant,  and  that  the 
laws  of  their  interaction  were  intelligible.  Necessity  in 
material  things  is  the  condition  of  their  intelligibility, 
and,  rightly  considered,  necessity  as  the  presupposition 
of  intelligent  freedom. 

It  is  interesting  to  read  his  endeavours  to  explain 
the  animal  functions  as  he  would  have  described  a 
piece  of  mechanism.  No  doubt  the  description  of  the 
particular  forms  of  machinery  may  provoke  a  smile, 
and  the  search  for  a  seat  of  the  unextended  soul,  which 
has  no  material  quality,  in  an  extended  body  is  some- 
what amusing ;  yet,  neglecting  all  his  errors,  the  pro- 
cedure is  strikingly  like  the  procedure  of  a  modern 
text-book  on  phj^siology.  Professor  Huxley,  in  the 
paper  on  "Animal  Automatism,"  republished  in  his 
Collected  Essays,  describes  Descartes  as  a  great  physio- 
logist, who  had  done  for  the  physiology  of  motion  and 
sensation  what  Harvey  had  done  for  the  circulation  of 
the  blood.  Huxley  sets  forth  a  series  of  propositions 
which  constitute  the  foundation  and  essence  of  modern 
physiology,  and  shows  that  these  are  fully  expressed 
and  illustrated  in  the  writings  of  Descartes.  It  is  an 
interesting  and  instructive  paper,  illustrative  not  only 


96  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

of  Descartes  but  also  of  Huxley.  But  for  the  main 
proposition  that  animals  are  automata,  the  evidence 
is  far  from  conclusive  either  in  the  hands  of  Descartes 
or  of  Huxley.  It  is  scarcely  possible  for  Huxley  to 
state  a  scientific  proposition  wrongly ;  in  fact,  he  had 
a  most  scrupulous  scientific  conscience :  but  then, 
in  the  interest  of  the  mechanical  theory,  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  going  beyond  the  scientific  evidence. 
It  is  true  that  all  science  is  in  the  way  of  making  its 
own  abstractions,  and  of  neglecting  all  that  does  not 
concern  its  immediate  purpose.  That  is  one  of  the  con- 
ditions of  its  success.  But  as  soon  as  science  makes 
its  abstraction  it  has  ceased  to  deal  with  reality  as 
such :  it  deals  only  with  that  aspect  of  it  which  it  has 
abstracted.  Thus  in  dealing  with  the  phenomena  of 
life,  physiology  has  abstracted  from  consciousness,  and 
it  deals  with  its  phenomena  not  as  these  appear  to  the 
subject  that  lives,  but  as  it  appears  to  the  abstract 
spectator  looking  on  from  without.  Thus  all  the 
theories  of  sciences  are  only  working  hypotheses, — 
instruments  of  investigation  into  the  nature  and  work- 
ing of  that  part  of  reality  under  consideration.  It  is 
illegitimate  to  make  a  working  hypothesis,  abstracted 
from  reality  for  one  particular  purpose,  the  instrument 
of  interpretation  for  reality  as  such.  The  principle  of 
mechanism  is  good  for  interpretation  where  it  applies, 
but  nowhere  else. 

Huxley  asks :  "  How  is  it  possible  to  imagine  that 
volition,  which  is  a  state  of  consciousness,  and  as  such 
has  not  the  slightest  community  of  nature  with  matter 
in  motion,  can  act  upon  the  moving  matter  of  which 
the  body  is  composed,  as  it  is  assumed  to  do  in  volun- 
tary acts  ?     But  if,  as  is  here  suggested,  the  voluntary 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  97 

acts  of  brutes — or,  in  other  words,  the  acts  which  they 
desire  to  perform — are  as  purely  mechanical  as  the 
rest  of  their  actions,  and  are  simply  accompanied  by 
the  states  of  consciousness  called  volition,  the  inquiry, 
so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  becomes  superfluous. 
Their  volitions  do  not  enter  into  the  chain  of  causa- 
tion of  their  actions  at  all "  (Huxley's  Collected  Essays, 
vol.  i.  p.  241).  Here  we  have  the  essence  of  the 
Cartesian  hypothesis  stated  with  all  the  lucidity  of 
Professor  Huxley,  and  with  all  the  advantage  to  it 
of  his  superb  scientific  knowledge.  What  does  it 
amount  to  in  the  case  of  animals  ?  and  in  the  case 
of  man?  Simply  to  this,  that  Huxley  has  utterly 
neglected  to  look  at  the  matter  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  inner  nature  of  the  animal,  or  of  man. 
He  is  looking  at  the  matter  from  the  outside,  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  mechanical  theory,  in  which 
it  is  fundamental  that  the  series  of  changes  discernible 
form  a  closed  circuit,  and  are  explicable  only  in  terms 
of  one  another.  Feelings,  desires,  all  the  phenomena 
of  the  inner  life,  do  not  count,  and  are  nothing  to  the 
mechanical  view.  Leaving  the  teaching  of  Descartes 
on  physics  for  later  treatment,  let  us  look  for  a  little 
at  the  relations  of  soul  and  body  as  set  forth  by  him. 
It  is  difficult  to  state  the  precise  view  which  Descartes 
held  as  to  the  nature  and  source  of  sensation.  For  the 
view  is  not  always  expressed  in  the  same  way,  or  in 
the  same  terms.  There  is  the  mechanism  of  the  nervous 
system,  and  there  is  some  way  in  which  that  system 
is  in  relation  with  the  external  world.  The  nerves 
are  capable  of  being  stimulated,  and  the  stimulation 
is  conveyed  through  the  body  and  reaches  the  brain, 
or  one  part  of  the  brain  in  particular.      He  singles 

7  i^~ 


98  DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND  | 

out  the  pineal  gland  as  the  unitary  centre  to  which 
all  nerve  currents  tend,  and  from  which  they  go  forth. 
These  currents  he  calls  animal  spirits,  but  their  function 
is  as  mechanical  as  the  machinery  of  a  watch.  They 
move  as  they  are  moved.  Every  stage  of  the  process 
belongs  not  to  mind,  but  to  matter.  He  explains  their 
nature  and  their  function  as  simply  parts  of  the  me- 
chanism of  the  body.  So  far  there  is  not,  or,  there  need 
not  be,  any  consciousness  of  the  process.  The  whole 
process  belongs  to  extension,  and  while  he  gives  the 
name  of  sensation  to  the  movements  of  the  nervous 
organism,  it  does  not  appear  that,  regarded  in  this 
aspect,  the  mind  is  aware  of  the  movements  of  the 
nervous  system.  Reflex  action,  in  modern  phrase, 
might  adequately  describe  the  process.  Thus  we  have 
a  twofold  use  of  the  name  sensation.  One  is  a  state  of 
consciousness,  and  the  other  is  a  process  of  change  in 
the  body. 

But  how  are  these  related  to  each  other  ?  We  can 
scarcely  say.  Looking  at  the  frequent  descriptions 
of  the  mechanism  of  the  body,  we  find  that  the 
separate  parts  serve  different  ends.  The  organs  of 
motion,  for  instance,  are  the  muscles;  the  organ  of 
feeling  is  the  heart.  But  how  a  movement  may  cause 
a  feeling  is  not  explained.  For  Descartes  seems  to 
avoid  the  problem,  and  in  the  description  of  the 
machinery  he  loses  sight  of  the  end  for  which  the 
machinery  is.  He  speaks  of  the  heart  and  brain  in 
their  separate  action ;  he  seems  also  to  postulate  a  more 
subtile  kind  of  machinery  to  mediate  between  the  two. 
These  seem  to  be  the  animal  spirits,  of  which  he  says : 
"What,  above  all,  is  here  worthy  of  observation  is 
the  generation  of  the  animal  spirits,  which  are  like  a 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  99 

very  subtle  wind,  or  rather,  a  very  pure  and  vivid 
flame,  which,  continually  ascending  in  great  abund- 
ance from  the  heart  to  the  brain,  thence  penetrates 
through  the  nerves  into  the  muscles,  and  gives  motion 
to  all  the  members ;  so  that  to  account  for  other  parts 
of  the  blood  which,  as  most  agitated  and  penetrating, 
are  the  fittest  to  compose  those  spirits  proceeding 
towards  the  brain,  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  any 
other  cause  than  simply,  that  the  arteries  which  carry 
them  thither  proceed  from  the  heart  in  the  most  direct 
lines,  and  that,  according  to  the  rules  of  Mechanics, 
which  are  the  same  with  those  of  Nature,  when  many 
objects  tend  at  once  to  the  same  point  where  there  is 
not  sufficient  room  for  all  (as  is  the  case  with  the  parts 
of  the  blood  which  flow  from  the  left  cavity  of  the 
heart  and  tend  towards  the  brain),  the  weaker  and 
less  agitated  parts  must  necessarily  be  driven  aside 
from  that  point  by  the  stronger,  which  alone  in  this 
way  reach  it "  (Veitch,  pp.  53,  54).  All  our  involuntary 
movements,  and  all  the  activities  common  to  us  and 
to  animals,  depend  only  on  the  arrangements  of  our 
organs  and  on  the  movements  of  the  animal  spirits,  and 
these  are  produced,  precisely  as  the  motions  of  a  watch 
are  produced,  by  the  uncoiling  of  the  main-spring 
and  the  correlations  of  the  v/heels. 

The  machine  of  the  body  is  wonderful,  and  the 
description  of  it  is  wonderful.  It  is  complicated,  it 
is  articulated  together:  its  parts  form  themselves, 
place  themselves  into  relation  with  each  other,  and 
they  form  a  unity.  The  human  body  is  one,  and  in 
a  certain  sense  indivisible.  The  soul  must  therefore 
be  present  to  the  whole  organism,  but  it  may  be 
specially  united  with  one  of  the  organs.     The  principal 


loo         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

question  in  relation  to  the  two  substances  is,  how 
movements  are  to  become  sensations  and  perceptions  ? 
It  is  evident  that  some  point  of  contact  must  be  found. 
The  function  of  the  animal  spirits  is  to  transform 
movements  into  sensations  and  perceptions,  and  sen- 
sations and  perceptions  into  movements.  The  animal 
spirits  have  their  source  of  production  in  the  heart, 
and  their  point  of  action  on  the  organs  in  the  brain, 
and  the  soul  must  have  its  seat  in  one  or  other  of  these 
organs.  As  the  animal  spirits  act  from  the  brain,  there 
must  the  seat  of  the  soul  be  sought  for. 

Not  to  speak  at  present  of  the  contradictions  in- 
herent in  this  view,  we  proceed  to  follow  Descartes  as 
he  describes  the  origin  of  the  passions.  The  impression 
made  on  us  becomes  perceptions  and  motives,  by  the 
action  of  the  mind  on  it.  A  feeling  is  instinctively- 
aroused  by  the  presentation  of  the  object,  and  the  will 
acts  on  the  animal  spirits,  and  action  suitable  to  the 
circumstances  ensues  without  a  conscious  exercise  of 
volition.  He  gives  examples  of  how  the  mind  and 
body  act  on  each  other,  how  impressions  of  objects 
unite  themselves  in  the  gland  which  is  in  the  centre 
of  the  brain,  how  the  passions  are  aroused  in  the  soul ; 
and  these  he  regards  as  illustrations  of  the  way  in 
which  the  animal  spirits  carry  on  their  proper  business. 
In  successive  articles  of  the  treatise  De  Passionibus  he 
gives  examples  of  the  movements  of  the  body  which 
accompany  passions,  and  which  do  not  depend  on  the 
mind ;  the  main  conclusion  being  that  the  origin  of  the 
passions  can  be  explained  in  a  purely  mechanical  way. 
The  psychical  character  of  the  passions  is  ignored,  and 
he  seeks  to  explain  their  origin  and  nature  from  the 
physical  side. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  lOi 

What  of  the  conflict  within  a  man  between  motives 
impelling  him  to  different  lines  of  action  ?  The  con- 
flict is  real,  but  it  is  not  understood.  The  conflict 
is  not  one  which  has  its  origin  and  character  within 
the  mental  nature  of  man  ;  it  is  simply  the  meeting 
of  movements  in  opposite  directions,  which  somehow 
touch  the  organ  of  the  soul :  one  comes  from  the  body 
through  the  agency  of  the  animal  spirits,  the  other 
from  the  soul  through  the  will.  "Attamen  potest 
adhuc  quidam  conflictus  concipi,  in  eo,  quod  ssepe 
eadem  causa,  quae  excitat  in  anima  aliam  passionem, 
excitet  etiam  quesdam  motus  in  corpore,  ad  quos  anima 
nihil  confert,  et  quos  sistit  aut  sistere  conatur  quam 
primum  eos  observat.  Ut  experientia  constat,  cum  id 
quod  excitat  metum,  efficit  quoque  ut  spiritus  ingredi- 
antur  musculos  qui  inserviunt  movendis  cruribus  ad 
f  ugiendum :  et  ut  voluntas  audacisG  exercendsD,  eos 
sistat "  {De  Passionihus,  Art.  xlvii.). 

There  is  a  real  conflict,  but  what  are  the  powers 
in  conflict  ?  Is  it  a  conflict  between  the  higher  and 
lower  nature  of  the  soul,  between  reason  and  desire, 
between  the  conscience  and  feeling ;  is  it,  in  short,  a 
conflict  within  the  soul  at  all  ?  or  is  it  a  result  of 
the  opposite  qualities  of  mind  and  body,  between 
mechanical  necessity  and  the  freedom  of  the  will? 
There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  answer  of  Descartes. 
The  conflict  is  a  consequence  of  the  disparity  between 
mind  and  matter.  The  mind,  the  essential  quality  of 
which  is  freedom,  must  realise  that  freedom,  but  it 
is  united  to  a  body  which  is  altogether  subject  to 
mechanical  law,  and  what  comes  from  the  body  must 
from  its  very  nature  be  opposed  to  the  mind.  The 
mind    must    subdue   the    passions,  so  Descartes  says, 


102         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

and    it    is    not    clear    how   it    is   possible   on   these 
terms. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  discuss  further  the  treatise 
on  the  passions,  for  in  the  foregoing  section  we  have 
found  the  essential  part  of  Descartes'  view.  The 
rest  of  the  treatise  may  be  regarded  as  illustration 
of  the  fundamental  thesis.  It  may  be  remarked,  how- 
ever, that  the  possibility  of  a  conflict  in  man  is  a 
testimony  to  the  worth  and  dignity  of  man.  It  is 
the  possession  of  self-certainty  and  freedom  that 
makes  it  possible  for  man  to  combat  the  passions 
arising  from  the  mechanical  movements  of  the  body, 
or  within  the  body.  It  needs  understanding  and  will 
on  the  one  hand,  as  it  needs  motion  on  the  other,  to 
produce  a  struggle.  Passions  arise  in  man,  who 
possesses  or  unites  body  and  mind  in  himself.  For 
in  man  alone  is  there  a  union  of  a  body  with  a  mind. 
Animals  have  not  understanding  and  will.  They  move 
as  they  are  moved,  for  without  self -consciousness  there 
is  no  mind,  no  thouo^ht,  no  soul.  Animals  are  auto- 
mata.  Here  we  see  the  importance  of  the  Cartesian 
doctrine  of  the  passions.  The  animals  have  no  pas- 
sions, for  the  passions  become  such  only  in  virtue  of 
the  opposition  of  the  mind  to  the  mechanical  move- 
ments initiated  by  the  animal  spirits.  But  in  animals 
there  is  no  opposition.  True,  they  appear  to  have 
sensations  and  impulses ;  but  sensations  and  impulses, 
whether  in  animal  or  in  man,  are  regarded  by 
Descartes  as  mechanical.  So  animals  are  automata. 
They  feel,  see,  and  hear,  hunger  and  thirst,  but  they 
have  no  clear  and  distinct  knowledge,  and  they  can 
therefore  have  no  soul.  Descartes  is  thus  driven  to 
the   conclusion  that  sensations   and  impulses  even  in 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  103 

man  are  purely  mechanical,  and  have  nothing  in 
common  with  psychical  activities.  Hence  the  import- 
ance which  Descartes  attaches  to  the  passions.  They 
are  the  signal  witnesses  which  attest  the  reality  of  the 
union  between  mind  and  body.  And  as  such  they  have 
their  importance. 

The  difficulty  is  how  to  conceive  a  relationship 
between  mind  active  in  thought  and  volition,  and 
matter  regarded  as  merely  extended  and  inert. 
Animals  had  no  activity  of  thought  and  volition, 
and  therefore  the  application  of  the  conception  of 
mechanism  was  sufficient  to  account  for  all  the  pheno- 
mena of  animal  life.  They  were  automata.  But 
intelligence  and  volition  offered  a  point  of  resistance 
to  the  reign  of  mechanism,  and  mind  was  a  clear  and 
distinct  idea,  and  was  real.  The  inexplicable  blending 
of  mind  and  matter  in  the  organic  man  left  no  resource 
for  Descartes  but  to  bring  in  a  new  conception  of  a 
unity  of  both,  in  which  consciousness  was  reduced 
to  a  minimum.  This  reduction  to  a  minimum  was 
necessary,  because  mechanism  could  not  be  dispensed 
with.  It  was  awkward,  certainly,  that  he  had 
regarded  mind  as  the  one  primary  certainty,  and 
mental  activity  as  assured.  But  in  the  confused  union 
of  mind  and  body  anything  might  happen.  Still,  it 
was  because  of  the  intellectual  and  voluntary  activity 
of  man  that  he  was  a  conscious  automaton,  and  for 
the  lack  of  such  activity  that  the  animal  was  a  mere 
automaton.  Mind  or  spirit  he  had  rightly  described 
by  means  of  this  intellectual  and  spontaneoils  activity. 
Sensations  and  other  passive  states  became  as  inexplic- 
able from  the  side  of  mind  as  they  were  from  the  side 
of  matter.     The  only  explanation  of   them  which  he 


104         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

advanced  was  teleological.  Thus  he  ran  against 
another  form  of  dualism — that  between  mechanism 
and  teleology,  a  dualism  which  he  had  in  another 
connection  repudiated.  Final  causes  or  ends  had  no 
place  in  his  scheme  of  thought,  but  sensations  and 
passive  states  generally  exist  solely  for  the  benefit  of 
the  composite  soul  and  body,  as  indications  of  what 
might  be  hurtful  or  beneficial  to  the  organism.  In 
fact,  the  original  dualism,  the  absolute  disparity 
between  mind  and  matter,  is  the  fruitful  mother  of  a 
numerous  offspring  of  contradictions. 

Nor  is  he  consistent  in  the  representations  which  he 
makes  as  to  the  place  they  have,  and  the  functions 
they  perform.  In  the  first  "  Meditation "  sensations 
and  sense  perceptions  are  psychical  facts,  and  are 
related  to  the  mind.  The  last  regards  them  as  some- 
thing which  belongs  to  the  composite  unity  of  mind 
and  body.  But  in  the  treatise  De  Passionibus  the 
passions  alone,  as  we  have  seen,  are  referred  to  the 
union  of  soul  and  body,  while  sensation  and  impulse 
are  referred  to  body  alone.  » In  fact,  we  might  obtain 
support  for  contradictory  descriptions  of  the  nature  of 
sensations  from  the  writings  of  Descartes.  We  might 
say  that  sensations  are  unclear  modifications  of  thought, 
or  we  might  say  that,  as  presentations  of  sense,  they  are 
not  merely  psychical,  or  we  might  say  that  they  are 
merely  bodily  and  mechanical,  and  we  could  produce 
evidence  for  any  of  these  propositions. 

Each  of  these  positions  has  its  consequences  for 
the  presuppositions  of  his  system.  If  sensations  be 
purely  mechanical,  then  the  meaning  and  function  of 
perception  and  feeling  are  unintelligible,  for  they  can, 
on  these  terms,  have  no  reality.     If  the  human  body  is 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  T05 

a  mere  machine  there  is  no  escape  from  the  conclusion 
that  what  is  true  of  animals  is  true  of  man :  he  is  also 
an  automaton.  Descartes  would  require  to  restate  his 
doctrine  of  the  possibility  of  error,  for  error  has  its 
source  and  possibility  in  the  activity  of  man ;  but  if 
there  are  no  sensations,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term, 
there  are  no  presentations  of  sense,  no  unclear  thoughts, 
nothing  to  be  misunderstood  by  the  will,  and  no  error 
is  possible.  He  must  affirm  the  fact  of  sensations,  and 
at  the  same  time  deny  them.  He  can  neither  affirm 
nor  deny  them  without  the  destruction  of  the  most 
characteristic  parts  of  his  new  philosophy.  If  the 
existence  of  sensation  as  a  mental  fact  be  denied,  then 
the  trustworthiness  of  consciousness  is  denied,  and  all 
the  argumentation  which  led  him  through  doubt  to 
self -certainty  vanishes.  It  is  not  necessary  to  elaborate 
the  matter  further,  for  the  truth  is  that  the  fact  of 
sensation  is  utterly  inexplicable  from  the  Cartesian 
standpoint. 

It  is  not  possible  within  our  limits  to  trace  the 
wrestling  of  the  Cartesian  philosophy  with  this 
difficulty.  The  union  between  soul  and  body  w^as  a 
fact,  but  an  incomprehensible  fact.  It  cannot  be 
explained  from  the  view^  of  matter,  nor  of  mind,  but  it 
is,  and  it  can  only  be  produced  by  divine  power.  Mind 
does  not  move  body,  nor  does  body  move  mind,  but 
movements  follow  volitions  because  God  brings  that  to 
pass.  Volitions  are  not  causes  ;  they  are  only  occasions 
for  the  forthputting  of  the  divine  activity,  in  virtue  of 
which  motion  takes  place.  Thus  also  are  explained 
the  relation  of  sensations  to  ideas,  the  conception  of 
extension,  and  our  knowledge  of  bodies.  This  is  what 
is   known   as   Occasionalism,   and   it    is   a   legitimate 


io6         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

development  of  Cartesianism.  More  important  and 
more  lasting  is  the  influence  of  Cartesianism  on  the 
relation  of  mechanism  and  teleology,  on  the  various 
attempts  to  conceive  the  relation  of  mind  and  matter, 
and  on  the  relation  of  the  physical  series  of  happenings 
to  the  psychical  series.  The  path  of  philosophy  is 
strewn  with  the  wrecks  of  theories  elaborated  to 
account  for  the  relation  of  the  two  series.  Thus  we 
have  the  doctrine  of  conscious  automatism,  which  has 
been  fiercely  advocated  by  Huxley ;  the  double  aspect 
theory,  which  has  its  living  advocates,  and  other  forms 
which  space  forbids  to  enumerate. 

In  truth,  the  controversy  is  a  living  one,  and  is  one 
not  likely  to  be  soon  closed.  On  the  one  hand,  we  have 
sometimes  the  confession  that  inexplicable  enigmas 
emerge,  if  we  press  the  mechanical  theory  to  its  issues. 
Then  we  come  face  to  face  with  the  seven  Weltrdthsel 
of  Du  Bois-Reymond ;  and  these  are  not  exhaustive. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  the  physicists,  with  their 
belief  in  the  efficiency  of  the  conception  of  mechanism, 
and  their  disposition  to  call  every  view  empirical  until 
it  appears  as  a  deduction  from  a  wide-reaching  mathe- 
matical law.  Then  the  fact  that  the  conception  of  a 
mechanism  has  enabled  physicists  to  form  a  conception 
of  the  working  of  the  natural  forces,  and  has  given 
them  command  over  the  forces  of  nature,  gives  to 
the  conception  of  mechanism  a  position  almost  im- 
pregnable. We  sliall  return  to  this  aspect  of  the  case 
presently. 

At  the  same  time,  we  desire  to  say  that  the  con- 
ception of  mechanism  is  not  ultimate  nor  self- 
explanatory.  It  is  useful,  and  valid  within  certain 
limits.     It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  it  is  by  no  means 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  107 

exclusive  of  teleology.  A  deeper  consideration  of  the 
two  conceptions  leads  us  to  see  that  teleology  without 
mechanism  is  powerless ;  that  if  it  had  no  means  to 
realise  itself,  purpose  would  remain  in  the  clouds.  It 
could  have  no  hope  of  realisation  if  it  did  not  lay  hold 
of  a  system  of  efficient  causes,  and  if  it  did  not  make  it 
a  mechanism  for  the  realisation  of  itself.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  may  be  observed  that  mechanism  without  a 
purpose  is  also  without  a  meaning.  One  of  the  deepest 
needs  of  our  minds  is  that  of  finding  the  meaning  of  a 
mechanism.  This  is  as  much  a  human  need  as  is  the 
necessity  for  discovering  the  cause  of  a  thing.  In  fact, 
it  is  the  same  human  need  looked  at  from  different 
ends.  The  statement  may  be  illustrated  from  the 
labours  of  tlie  biologists,  who  under  the  impulse  of 
Darwin  are  engaged  in  working  out  the  theory  of 
evolution.  It  is  a  pressing  need  for  them  to  find  the 
purpose,  or  the  utility,  and  the  advantage  to  the 
possessor  of  every  modification  of  the  organism.  It  is 
interesting  and  instructive  to  read  the  accounts  of 
mimicry,  of  the  causes  of  the  colours  of  animals  and 
birds,  of  the  advantage  in  the  struggle  for  existence  of 
adaptive  change.  It  is  curious,  also,  that  this  labour 
in  teleology  is  placed  on  them  in  the  interests  of  a 
theory  which  formally  has  excluded  teleology  from 
having  any  influence  as  a  real  source  of  efficiency. 

Even  if  we  are  successful  in  applying  generally  the 
conception  of  mechanism  to  an  organism,  we  shall 
immediately  have  to  modify  the  conception  of  mechan- 
ism, and  adapt  it  to  the  new  phenomena.  For  an 
organism  is  a  peculiar  kind  of  machine.  In  it  there 
are  other  phenomena  than  that  of  being  moved  by 
impulses  from  without.     There  is  the  fact  of  sensibility, 


io8         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

which  has  no  place  in  a  machine  properly  so-called. 
In  organisms  we  have  to  deal  with  living  substances, 
and  whatever  may  be  our  view  of  life,  and  however 
strenuous  may  be  our  denial  of  anything  like  vital 
force,  the  fact  remains  that  living  bodies  have  qualities 
of  their  own.  Living  bodies  act  in  a  peculiar  way. 
They  are  able  to  provide  for  themselves  stores  of 
energy  for  the  doing  of  their  work.  They  have  the 
power  of  intussusception.  The  organism  sustains  itself, 
repairs  itself,  constructs  itself.  It  does  not  depend  on 
external  impulses  for  its  movements;  it  determines, 
within  limits,  its  own  action.  In  a  word,  the  inner 
nature  of  the  organism  counts  for  something  in  the 
general  result.  If  the  course  of  the  organism  is  one 
that  can  be  predicted,  the  prediction  must  be  based  on 
the  convergence  of  the  inner  and  the  outer  factors.  To 
explain  a  machine,  we  take  into  account  the  principles 
on  which  it  is  constructed  and  the  work  it  is  to  do. 
We  look  not  at  the  machine  itself  for  an  explanation 
of  it ;  the  materials  of  which  it  is  made  do  not  explain 
it,  for  the  adjustment  of  parts,  and  the  relation  of 
whole  to  parts  and  of  parts  to  whole,  have  been  im- 
pressed on  it  from  without.  But  in  the  organism  the 
purpose,  the  intention,  the  explanation  must  be  sought 
for  in  the  inner  life  of  the  organism.  The  theory  of 
evolution,  almost  in  contradiction  to  the  intention  of 
its  authors,  has  laid  stress  on  the  inner  life  of  the 
organism,  and  has  involuntarily  demonstrated  that 
the  functions  of  the  organism  have  determined  the 
structure. 

Further,  in  the  relation  of  organism  to  environment, 
what  elements  the  organism  may  select  for  itself  do 
not  depend  on  the  environment  alone.     In  one  square 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  109 

mile  there  may  be  thousands  of  organisms,  and,  while 
the  environment  may  be  one,  the  elements  selected 
from  the  environment  for  the  uses  of  the  organism 
are  as  various  as  are  the  organisms.  The  organism 
selects  what  it  needs.  This  is  true  for  all  life,  and  if 
we  are  to  call  the  organism  a  machine  we  must  recast 
our  definition  of  a  machine. 

If  this  is  true  regarding  all  life,  a  fortiori  it  is  true 
regarding  rational  life.  Descartes  saw  that  in  self- 
conscious  life  he  had  something  that  reacted  in  a 
special  way  against  the  environment.  He  laid  stress 
on  the  intellectual  and  voluntary  activity  of  the  self 
of  whose  existence  he  was  persuaded.  MentaUifgjwas 
for  him  essentially  active  and  independent  of  matter. 
In  fact,  this  was  the  perplexity  which  troubled  him ;  for 
how  could  such  intellectual  and  spontaneous  activity 
co-exist  with  a  world  the  characteristic  feature  of 
which  was  the  absence  of  spontaneity.  Sensations, 
inner  states  generally,  were  inexplicable  for  him,  either 
from  the  side  of  matter  or  of  mind.  As  we  have  already 
pointed  out,  their  function  was  solely  teleological,  to 
indicate  what  was  beneficial  or  hurtful.  Here  the 
argument  cannot  be  carried  further ;  we  may,  however, 
refer  to  the  best  discussion  on  the  problem  with  which 
we  are  acquainted.  We  refer  to  the  masterly  discussion 
on  the  whole  question  of  Psychophysical  Parallelism  in 
the  Giffbrd  Lectures  of  Dr.  Ward.  "  Every  man  knows 
the  diflference  between  feeling  and  doing,  between  idle 
reverie  and  intense  thought,  between  impotent  and 
aimless  drifting  and  unswerving  tenacity  of  purpose, 
being  the  slave  of  every  passion  and  the  master  of 
himself.  And  what  he  finds  in  his  own  experience — 
this  fundamental  contrast  of  passivity  and  activity — 


no  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

he  believes  to  be  shared  by  all  his  fellow-men,  nay, 
though  in  less  developed  forms,  by  every  living  thing. 
Experience  in  every  case  consists  in  interaction  between 
individual  and  environment,  an  alternation  of  sensitive 
impression  and  motor  expression,  the  one  relatively 
passive,  the  other  relatively  active.  Absolute  activity 
and  absolute  passivity  are  limiting  conceptions  to 
which  we  have  no  answering  experience,  the  one  being 
commonly  attributed  to  God  only,  and  the  other  only 
to  primeval  matter.  Devoid  alike  of  creative  activity 
and  of  the  inert  indifference  of  senseless  clay,  each  man 
finds  himself,  and  believes  all  other  sentients  to  be,  at 
once  sensitive  and  reactive,  feeling  as  well  as  receiving, 
and  prompted  by  feeling  to  act.  It  must  surely  ever 
remain  futile,  nay,  even  foolish,  to  attempt  to  explain 
either  receptivity  or  activity;  for  what  is  there  in 
experience  more  fundamental  ?  And  being  thus  funda- 
mental, the  prime  staple  of  all  experience,  it  is  absurd 
to  prove  them  real,  since  in  the  first  and  foremost 
sense  of  reality  the  real  and  they  are  one.  What  then, 
I  ask  again,  are  we  to  say  of  the  attempt  to  disprove 
their  reality  ? "  (Naturalism  and  Agnosticism,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  52,  53). 


CHAPTER   VI 

Matter — Matter  and  Motion — Quantity  of  Motion — The  First  and 
Second  Causes — Matter  in  abstraction  from  Mind — Matter 
and  Extension — Professor  Tait  on  Newton's  Laws  of  Motion 
— Criteria  of  Objective  Reality — Development  of  the  Universe 
according  to  Natural  Law — Mechanical  Evolution — Diffi- 
culties connected  with  the  System — Fruitf ulness  of  the  Main 
mechanical  Conceptions  of  Descartes. 

It  is  easier  to  apply  the  principle  of  mechanism  to 

material  things  than  to  organisms.    For  material  things 

have  no  principle  of  self-action,  they  move  only  as  they 

are  moved.     The  postulate  of  physical  science  is  that  it 

is  inert,  and  that  all  bodies  continue  in  the  state  in 

which  they  are,  unless  they  are  changed  by  external 

force.     If  this  be  so,  it  is  evident  that  the  principle  of 

mechanical  explanation  has  not  the  difficulty  to  meet, 

nor  the  resistance  to  the  acceptance  of  it,  which  occurs 

on  the  supposition  that  the  body  can  move  itself,  and 

can  direct  its  action  from  within.     This  is  so  obvious 

that  it  did  not  escape  the  attention  of  Descartes.     The 

necessity  of  conserving  the  fundamental  principle  of 

the  essential  disparity  of  mind  and  matter  led  him  to 

various  devices  to  account  for  the  movements  of  animals 

on  strictly  mechanical  principles.     But  on  these  we  do 

not  dwell. 

We  may,  however,  dwell  on  the  manner  in  which  he 
111 


112         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

connects  the  metaphysical  and  physical  parts  of  his 
philosophy.  God  was  related  to  mind  as  the  principle 
of  knowledge ;  how  are  we  to  conceive  of  the  relation 
of  God  to  matter  ?  In  relation  to  bodies,  God  is  the 
principle  of  motion  and  of  rest.  Motion  needs,  he  says, 
a  double  cause — one  universal  and  general,  which  is  the 
general  cause  of  all  the  motions  which  are  in  the 
world;  and  a  particular  cause,  from  which  particular 
parts  of  matter  may  acquire  the  motion  which  they 
had  not  formerly  had.  The  general  cause  is  God,  who 
created  matter,  along  with  motion  and  rest,  at  the 
beginning.  The  quantity  of  motion  and  rest  must 
therefore  remain  always  the  same.  This  follows  from 
the  nature  and  perfection  of  God.  "  Intelligimus 
etiam  perfectionem  esse  in  Deo,  non  solum  quod  in 
se  ipso  sit  immutabilis,  sed  etiam  quod  modo  quam 
maxime  constanti  et  immutabili  operetur  "  {Principi- 
orum  Phil,  ii.  36).  Thus  from  the  immutability  of 
God,  as  well  as  from  the  nature  of  bodies,  Descartes 
concludes  that  the  quantity  of  motion  in  the  world 
is  unchangeable. 

While  God  is  the  general  cause  of  all  the  motion 
in  the  world,  yet  there  are  second  causes,  and  these  are 
also  interpenetrated  so  by  the  unchangeableness  of 
God  that  they  must  act  regularly,  and  according  to 
fixed  rules.  These  laws  of  motion  are  second  causes. 
Bodies  are  inert,  and  they  continue  in  the  state  in 
which  they  are  till  changed  by  the  application  of  some 
outward  force.  It  is  to  be  noticed  that  Descartes,  in 
the  subsequent  part  of  the  treatise  on  the  principles  of 
philosophy,  deals  only  with  second  causes.  Having 
reached  the  motion  of  second  causes  he  deals  henceforth 
with  them  alone.     All  the  changes  of  motion  in  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  iij 

world,  and  all  the  phenomena  connected  with  these 
changes,  are  to  be  explained,  not  from  occult  causes, 
but  from  the  interrelations  of  bodies  of  matter.  This 
is  the  significant  character  of  his  physical  philosophy. 
In  whatever  way  he  reached  this  conclusion,  whether 
by  reflection  on  the  unchangeableness  of  God  or  by 
reflection  on  the  properties  of  matter,  the  significant 
thing  is  that  he  sets  himself  to  explain  the  changes 
of  the  world  from  mechanical  principles  alone.  He  has 
set  the  example,  which  physical  philosophers  have 
followed  to  this  hour. 

He  took  matter  in  abstraction  from  mind.  He 
assumed  that  he  might  know  its  properties]  and  these 
properties  he  identified  with  extension,  or  rather  ex- 
tendedness.  It  is  quite  possible  to  take  the  properties 
of  matter  in  abstraction  from  mind  and  to  make  no 
reference  to  the  innumerable  questions  which  im- 
mediately arise  in  connection  with  the  knowableness  of 
matter.  This  is  what  physicists  usually  do,  and  in 
doing  so  they  sometimes  sneer  at  metaphysicians  as  they 
pass  on.  Here  is  a  characteristic  passage  from  a  most 
distinguished  physicist,  and  one  of  the  best  teachers 
ever  known  by  the  present  writer.  Professor  Tait,  in 
the  opening  paragraphs  of  his  treatise  on  Newton's 
Laws  of  Motion,  thus  speaks  :  "  Reason  and  experience 
force  on  all  who  rightly  employ  them  the  objective 
reality  of  the  Physical  Universe.  It  exists  altogether 
independently  of  the  senses  and  subjective  impressions, 
by  which  alone  a  conception  of  it  can  reach  our  minds. 
Denial  of  this  statement  lands  us  at  once  in  hopeless  in- 
consistency. It  is  scientifically  certain  that  the  physical 
universe  existed  before  there  were  any  senses  to  per- 
ceive it,  and  that  during  these  ages  it  would  have 
8 


OD 


ii4         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

produced  sensuous  impressions  if  organs  of  sense  had 
existed.  Although,  therefore,  it  can  only  be  conceived  of 
as  related  to  the  senses,  it  has  an  existence  altogether 
independent  of  the  senses.  Acceptance  of  this  state- 
ment leads  to  such  difficulties  only  as  exercise  the 
ingenuity  of  Metaphysicians.  The  more  reckless  of  the 
class  have  denied  that  the  physical  world  is  real ;  the 
more  cautious  of  them  have  been  striving  to  determine 
precisely  what  its  objective  reality  means.  Wishing 
the  latter  more  success  than  they  seem  hitherto  to 
have  had,  we  leave  the  problem  on  their  hands.  The 
objective  realities  in  the  physical  world  are  of  two 
kinds  only:  Matter  and  Energy.  Our  conviction  of 
their  objectivity  is  based  on  the  experimental  fact  that 
we  cannot  alter  the  quantity  of  either.  In  technical 
language,  we  therefore  speak  of  two  great  General 
Laws — Conservation  of  Matter  and  Conservation  of 
Energy." 

We  quote  this  interesting  passage  not  for  criticism, 
but  as  an  example  of  the  attitude  of  mind  of  the 
physical  philosopher.  There  is  a  certain  grandeur  in 
the  appeal  to  Reason  and  Experience,  and  a  splendid 
assumption  in  the  reference  to  "  all  who  rightly  think  " 
which  are  most  impressive.  The  criteria  of  objective 
reality  seem  so  simple  and  so  obvious  that  at  the  first 
blush  of  it  the  poor  metaphysician  feels  somewhat 
ashamed.  It  is  scientifically  certain  that  the  universe 
existed  before  there  were  any  senses  to  perceive  it. 
Well,  in  a  certain  sense  this  is  true,  but  the  truth  of  it 
does  not  settle  the  matter.  It  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  settle 
these  questions  as  Professor  Tait  seems  to  think.  For 
even  the  statement,  that  the  universe  existed  before 
there  were  any  senses  to  perceive  it,  still  leaves  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  115 

question  of  the  reference  to  intelligence  untouched. 
For  the  universe  then  existed  in  relation  to  intelli- 
gence. The  second  criterion  consists  in  the  proposition, 
that  the  objective  reality  depends  on  our  ability  to 
alter  or  not  to  alter  the  quantity  of  matter  or  energy. 
This  statement  is  a  relative  one.  It  is  quite  relevant 
as  a  ground  for  our  conviction  that  the  quantity  of 
matter  is  something  which  we  cannot  change,  but  is 
that  a  sufficient  ground  for  the  assertion  that  the 
quantity  of  energy  or  of  matter  in  the  universe  is 
constant  and  unchangeable  ?  The  statement  as  to  the 
conservation  of  matter  and  the  conservation  of  energy 
is  absolute,  and  the  proof  of  it  is  experimental,  limited, 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  quantity  of  matter  which  we  can 
examine,  and  to  the  experimental  means  at  our  com- 
mand. Professor  Tait  would  need  to  undertake  another 
inquiry,  in  order  to  justify  his  procedure  in  extending 
the  criteria  of  objectivity  from  the  matter  and  energy 
on  which  he  could  experiment  to  the  matter  and  energy 
contained  in  the  universe.  In  order  to  do  this  he 
must  call  in  the  aid  of  the  despised  metaphysician. 
But  the  physicist  is  in  the  habit  of  making  assumptions 
which  he  does  not  criticise,  and  to  assume  as  universal 
what,  on  his  own  grounds,  he  cannot  know  or 
prove. 

For  one  thing,  the  physicist  has  always  dealt  with 
the  physical  world  in  abstraction  from  intelligence. 
Even  if  he  does  refer  to  intelligence  he  limits  his  re- 
ference to  the  suggestion,  that  it  is  only  by  the  senses 
and  subjective  impressions  that  a  conception  of  the 
universe  can  reach  our  minds.  With  a  good  deal  of 
naivete y  and  with  touching  metaphysical  simplicity, 
Professor   Tait   speaks   of   a   conception   reaching    us 


ii6         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

through  the  senses  and  through  subjective  impressions, 
never  thinking  of  the  work  done  by  the  mind  ere 
impressions  can  reach  the  standard  of  conceptions. 
The  naive  realism  of  the  physicist  we  must,  for  the 
most  part,  leave  uncriticised  here.  He  makes  the  ab- 
straction from  intelligence  once  for  all,  and  proceeds 
on  the  assumption  that,  as  far  as  physics  are  concerned, 
his  procedure  is  altogether  objective.  Let  us  follow 
him  in  his  work,  always  carrying  with  us  the  reference 
to  intelligence  that  is  implicit  in  every  assumption  that 
he  makes. 

The  attitude  of  the  physicist  is  precisely  that  of 
Descartes,  so  far  as  he  deals  with  the  physical  world. 
This  is  his  significance  for  modern  physical  thought. 
Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  in  almost  every  section 
there  are  constant  references  to  the  divine  action,  yet 
j^.  the  operative  causes  are  really  the  second  causes.  His 
J^  procedure  is  mainly  deductive.  Yet  he  occasionally  ad- 
/  mits  the  necessity  of  an  appeal  to  experience,  or  to  what 
Professor  Tait  calls  experiment.  He  asserts  that  the 
,  matter  of  all  the  bodies  in  the  universe  is  one  and  the 
same,  divisible  into  the  same  parts,  and  are  divided  in 
many  ways,  and  are  moved  in  diverse  ways  but  always  in 
such  a  way  that  the  whole  quantity  of  motions  in  the 
universe  are  conserved.  "At  quam  magnse  sint  istas 
partes  materise,  quam  celeriter  moveantur,  et  quales  cir- 
culos  describant,  non  possumus  sola  ratione  determinare ; 
quia  potuerunt  ista  innumeris  modis  diversis  a  Deo 
temperari,  et  quemnam  prae  cseteris  elegerit,  sola  ex- 
perientia  docere  debet ;  jam  que  idcirco  nobis  liberum  est, 
quidlibet  de  illis  assumere,  modo  omnia,  quae  ex  ipso 
consequentur,  cum  experientia  consentiant "  (Frin.  Phil, 
Pars.  iii.  sect.  46).     Thus  Descartes,  while  assuming  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  117 

all  matter  is  primarily  one  and  the  same,  leaves  room  « 
for  experience  to  determine  what  are  the  actual  colloca- 
tions of  matter  in  the  world,  and  what  the  character  of 
its  movements  may  be.  There  are  limiting  conceptions, 
on  the  one  hand,  that  the  total  quantity  of  motion  is  con- 
served, and,  on  the  other,  that  the  primal  matter  is  one 
and  the  same. 

More  characteristic  and  more  important  is  the  con-/'  ^ 
ception  which  he  throws  out,  that  the  universe  mighl)  - 
have  developed  by  natural  laws  out  of  a  less  perfect 
primitive  condition.  He  throws  out  the  suggestion 
under  reserve.  He  has  the  fear  of  the  Church  before 
his  eyes,  and  concedes  that  the  world  was  created 
perfect  and  complete,  and  he  cautiously  throws  out  the 
suggestion  that  the  world  might  have  developed  by  the 
^action  of  natural  laws  from  chaos  to  order.  Having 
stated  what  the  laws  of  nature,  to  which  we  shall 
presently  return,  are,  he  adds  that  from  these,  as  causes, 
all  the  effects  which  appear  in  this  world,  according  to  ^ 
the  laws  of  nature  as  expounded  above,  can  originate. 
"  Et  non  puto  alia  simpliciora,  vel  intellectu  faciliora, 
vel  etiam  probabiliora  rerum  principia  posse  excogitari. 
Etsi  enim  forte  etiam  ex  Chao  per  leges  Naturae,  idem 
ille  ordo  qui  jam  est  in  rebus,  deduci  posset,  idque  olim 
susciperim  explicandum ;  quia  tamen  confusio  minus 
videtur  convenire  cum  summa  Dei  rerum  creatoris  per- 
fectionse,  quam  proportio  vel  ordo,  et  minus  distincte 
etiam  a  nobis  percipi  potest ;  nullaque  proportio,  nul- 
lusve  ordo  simplicior  est,  et  cognitu  facilior,  quam  ille 
qui  constat  omnimoda  sequalitate ;  idcirco  hie  suppono 
omnes  materiae  particulas,  initio  fuisse  tam  in  magni- 
tudine,  quam  in  motu  inter  se  sequales,  et  nullam  in 
universo  insequalitatem  relinquo,  prseter  illam  quoe  est 


ii8         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

in  situ  Fixatum ;  et  quae  unicuique  coelum  noctu  intuenti, 
tarn  clare  apparet,  ut  negati  plane  non  possit "  {Prin. 
Phil.,  Pars.  iii.  sect.  47). 

It  is  not  of  much  importance  to  determine  what  the 
original  state  of  matter  was,  for  in  virtue  of  the  action 
of  natural  laws  matter  must  pass  through  all  the 
states  which  it  is  capable  of  assuming,  "  Si  for  mas  istas 
ordine  consideremus,  tandem  ad  illam  quae  est  hujus 
mundi  poterimus  de venire:  adeo  ut  hie  nihil  erroris  ex 
falsa  suppositione  sit  timendum."  We  have  here  a 
statement  of  the  principle  which  lies  at  the  basis  of 
every  scheme  of  evolution  of  the  mechanical  sort. 
From  the  simple  to  the  complex,  from  chaos  to  order, 
through  the  operation  of  fixed  laws,  is  the  thought  in 
his  mind.  Evolution  from  within  through  law  is  surely 
a  great  thought,  and  it  describes  the  aim  of  science 
from  his  time  to  our  own.  So  far  it  seems  accepted 
now  as  the  principle  which  guides  the  action  of  scientific 
workers  in  all  the  departments  of  science.  Sometimes 
the  simplicity  is  overdone,  and  in  many  cases  a  false 
simplicity  is  postulated  in  order  to  find  an  apparent 
progress  from  the  simple  to  the  complex,  from  the 
homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous.  We  find,  for 
example,  such  a  maxim  as  this,  that  "  universally  the 
effect  is  more  complex  than  the  cause,"  a  reading  of  the 
law  of  causation  which  is  possible  only  if  we  neglect 
the  system  of  things  in  the  case  of  cause,  and  surrep- 
titiously bring  it  in  in  connection  with  the  eflfect.  The 
axiom  of  causality  postulated  by  Descartes  is  precisely 
the  opposite  of  that  which  we  have  taken  from  the  writ- 
ings of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  Cause  with  Descartes  has 
in  itself  all  perfections,  and  while  it  is  equal  to  the 
production  of  the  eflfect  it   is  not  exhausted   by   the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  119 

production  of  the  effect.  The  method  of  procedure  is 
deductive  from  cause  to  effect.  He  is  aware  of  the 
objection  that  may  arise  from  the  consideration  of  the 
possible  multiplicity  of  causes,  for  this  effect  may  have 
been  produced  by  this  or  that  cause.  He  is  aware, 
also,  of  the  necessity  of  experience  and  experiment,  but 
the  experiments  are  so  numerous  and  so  costly  that 
they  could  be  carried  out  only  by  the  co-operation 
of  many  men. 

His  conception  of  matter  also  placed  difficulties  in 
his  way.     The  only  properties  of  matter  recognised  by 
him  are  those  of  extension,  divisibility,  and  mobility ;  •/ 
and  he  burdened  himself  by  attempting  to  explain  the 
phenomena  of  nature  from   these   alone.      There  are 
properties  of  matter  which  cannot  be  reduced  to  these 
three.      It  is  something  in  his  favour  that,  notwith- 
standing the  fact  that  he  made  space  to  be  the  funda- 
mental  property   of    matter,    he    yet    did    arrive    at 
something   like   the   true   conception   of    inertia,   and 
stated  the  first  law  of  motion  in  terms  not  unlike  those 
which  were  used  by  Newton.     All  changes  in  the  out- 
ward world  are  due  to  the  operation  of  forces  operating  0 
on   matter   from  without   the   particular  body  to   be 
moved.     "  Every  particular  body,  so  far  as  in  it  lies,  ^^ 
perseveres  in  the  same  state,  whether  of  motion  or  of^ 
rest."      "  Prima  est,  unamquamque  rem,  quatenus  est 
simplex  et  indivisa,  manere  quantum  in  se  est  in  eodem 
semper  statu,  nee  unquam  mutari  nisi  a  causis  externis 
{Prin.  Phil.,  ii.  37).     Resistance  to  change  is  thus  tl 
fundamental  property  of   matter,  and  all  matter  has 
this  property.     The  greater  the  number  of  parts  there 
is    in    a    body,     the     greater    is    its     resistance     to 
change.    He  calls  the  quantity  of  parts  the  mass,  the 


120         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

amount  of  motion  the  velocity,  and  the  product  of 
the  mass  into  the  velocity  is  the  measure  of  force. 
His  second  law  of  nature  is,  that  every  moving  body 
moves  in  a  straight  line.  There  is  no  empty  space. 
And  therefore  every  moving  body  must  come  into 
contact  with  other  bodies.  He  distinguishes  seven 
cases  in  which  bodies  come  into  collision,  and  from 
these  he  formulates  seven  rules  according  to  which  the 
changes  resulting  from  collision  will  take  place.  It  is 
not  necessary  to  enumerate  these,  for  the  main  thing 
is  that,  according  to  him,  the  quantity  of  motion 
always  remains  the  same,  and  therefore  the  mass  and 
the  velocity  vary  in  inverse  proportion  to  one  another. 
Every  body  which  causes  another  to  move  must  lose  as 
much  of  its  own  motion  as  it  communicates  to  that  body. 
Into  the  further  details  of  the  mechanical  system  of 
Descartes  it  is  not  necessary  to  enter.  The  identifica- 
tion of  matter  and  space,  the  supposition  of  a  plenwm 
or  of  a  space  which  is  full  of  matter,  necessarily  led  to 

/^he  supposition  that  motion  was  determined  by  impact 
alone.  It  necessarily  led  to  the  supposition,  also,  that 
the  movements  of  fluid  bodies  could  not  be  explained 
by  those  laws  which  sufficed  for  the  explanation  of 
hard  and  solid  bodies.  For  him  space  is  extension,  and 
extension  is  the  property  of  an  extended  thing,  and 
where  there  is  extension  there  is  also  matter.  There 
can  be  no  limit  to  the  material  world  either  in  the  way 
of  a  maximum  or  a  minimum.  For  there  is  no  limit  to 
space  as  a  whole,  and  there  is  no  limit  to  the  divisibility 

'■  of  matter.     Any  change  within  matter  is  a  change  of  it 
from  place  to  place ;  every  change,  therefore,  is  due  to  v 
motion,  and  takes  place  according  to  the  laws  of  motion. 
These  laws  are  deduced  from  the  conception  of  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  121 

unchangeableness  of  God,  from  the  assumption  that 
the  sum  of  motion  communicated  to  the  universe  at 
the  creation  remains  unaltered  during  its  conservation. 
Conservation  he  regards  as  continued  creation/  While 
the  quantity  of  motion  remains  constant,  the  distribu- 
tion of  it  may  vary  in  space  and  time,  but  no  motion  is 
lost  and  none  can  begin  anew. 

From  this  it  is  obvious  that  Descartes  found  that  the 
principles  with  which  he  starts  in  his  philosophy  of 
nature  were  too  few,  too  simple,  and  too  abstract  for 
the  upbuilding  of  a  world.  What  he  does  prove,  if  he 
proves  anything  at  all,  is  that  the  divine  power  at 
work  in  the  world  is  constant,  and  the  quantity  of 
motion  as  something  constant  is  derived  from  the  sup- 
position that  the  divine  power  is  constant.  On  the 
Cartesian  principle,  there  is  nothing  to  hinder  the 
notion  that,  at  some  stage  of  the  world's  history,  there 
might  be  a  new  forth  putting  of  divine  power ;  and  if 
there  were  such,  the  quantity  of  motion  might  also  be 
increased.  For  on  the  Cartesian  hypothesis  the  divine 
power  is  not  exhausted  by  the  quantity  of  motion  in 
the  world.  Thus  the  proof  of  the  quantity  of  motion 
in  the  world  as  constant  would  lead  inevitably  to  the 
conception  that  the  making  of  the  world  exhausted 
the  power  of  God,  or  to  the  identification  of  God  with 
the  world.  Some  way  must  be  found  to  identify  the 
divine  action  with  the  actual  outcome  of  it  in  the  world, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  increased  or  diminished.  Here, 
however,  we  are  evidently  engaged  with  considerations 
bearing  on  metaphysics  and  theology,  and  not  on 
physics. 

Physically,  too,  the  system  of  Descartes  is  threatened 
with  bankruptcy  at  every  turn.    He  cannot  explain  the 


122         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

physical  state  called  rest,  he  cannot  relate  it  rationally 
to  motion,  or  motion  to  it.  He  needs  a  miracle  at  every 
moment  to  keep  things  moving,  for  it  is  not  the  quantity 
"Xta/f  motion  that  is  constant,  it  is  energy.  This  was  seen 
b}^  Leibniz;  and  his  doctrine,  which  is  also  that  of 
Newton,  has  found  its  highest  expression  in  the  law  of 
the  Conservation  of  Energy.  This  is  now  the  accepted 
conclusion  of  physics  and  chemistry,  and  forms  a 
criterion  of  the  validity  of  every  physical  conclusion. 
Vis  viva,  not  the  quantity  of  motion,  is  the  amendment 
of  Leibniz;  and  it  has  this  advantage,  that  for  the 
demands  of  physical  theory  we  must  not  go  beyond 
the  sphere  of  physics.  Theological  considerations  are 
out  of  court  in  physics,  which  must  be  allowed  to 
proceed  on  its  own  path,  to  its  own  goal  unhindered 
and  unhampered  by  considerations  derived  from  other 
spheres  of  thought.  Physics  has  a  right  to  its  own 
method,  its  own  assumptions,  its  own  axioms,  and  its 
own  conclusions — only,  let  it  recognise  that  these  are 
valid  only  within  the  sphere  of  physics. 

Looking  away  from  the  theological  reasons  which 
are  set  forth  by  Descartes  as  the  formal  reasons  for  his 
assertion  of  the  constancy  of  action  in  the  world,  we 
must  recognise  that  the  general  laws  of  nature  formu- 
lated by  him  were  a  great  advance  on  what  had  gone 
before.  It  was  something  to  establish  the'*' law  of 
inertia,  in  however  imperfect  a  form.  It  was  some- 
thing gained  to  invite  men  to  account  for  changes 
within  the  world  by  causes  always  in  action,  and  acting 
regularly  and  constantly.  This  was  the  great  contri- 
bution of  Lyell  to  the  geological  theory,  that  the  causes 
now  in  operation  were  also  the  causes  that  had  been 
in  action  through  all  geologic  time.      It  is  the  first 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  123 

principle  of  science,  and  theology  and  philosophy  are 
as  much  interested  in  the  acceptance  of  it  as  science  is. 
Hooker  and  Butler  established  this  claim  for  theology ; 
only,  many  have  not  seen  it,  or  have  ignored  it. 

Though  based  on  wrong  data  and  inexactly  stated, 
yet  the  recognition  of  something  constant  in  the  world,  /] 
and  that  force  is  needed  to  change  of  state  of  a  body, 
and  that  unimpeded  motion  is  in  a  straight  line,  implied 
that  the  explanation  of  nature  must  not  appeal  to 
occult  or  mysterious  powers,  that  the  changes  of  nature 
are  really  exchanges.  Yet  this  claim  has  its  limits.  .^::^==^ 
For  one  thing,  physics  must  not  make  its  method 
universal;  it  must  not  think  that  it  can  solve  all 
problems  by  an  extension  of  the  physical  method. 
This  attempt  was,  as  we  have  seen,  made  by  Descartes ; 
it  is  made  to-day  in  many  quarters.  Quantitative  rela- 
tions are  not  everything,  even  in  physics.  There  are 
differences  in  matter,  though  it  is  true  of  matter  in  all 
its  forms  that  it  is  subject  to  the  law  of  gravitation. 
The  fact  of  energy  is  due  to  the  differences  in  state  and 
position  between  one  kind  of  matter  and  another.  In 
other  words,  matter  has  not  that  simplicity  attributed 
to  it  by  Descartes.  It  has  qualities  or  properties  which 
cannot  be  brought  under  the  characters  of  extension, 
divisibility,  and  mobility.  Here  he  proceeds,  not  by 
analysis,  but  by  abstraction,  and  when  he  limits  matter 
to  extended  substance  he  is  simply  attributing  reality 
to  an  abstraction,  and  is  as  scholastic  as  any  schoolman. 
Nor  did  he  make  a  critical  examination  of  the  qualities- w 
of  matter  in  order  to  prove  that  the  primary  qualities^ 
are  not  as  subjective  as  he  thought  the  secondary  '• 
qualities  to  be. 

What   are    the    fewest    and    simplest    assumptions, 


124         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

which,  being  given,  will  also  explain  for  us  the  whole 
of  nature  ?  It  would  almost  seem  that  Descartes  had 
asked  himself  this  question,  and  that  his  system  is  the 
answer.  From  the  simplest  and  most  intelligible 
phenomena  to  the  more  recondite  and  the  less  intellig- 
ible, that  is  his  procedure.  To  explain  the  distant  and 
the  unknown  by  the  near  and  the  known  is  surely 
a  wise  procedure.  This  he  endeavoured  to  do.  He 
found  that  it  was  conducive  to  clearness  and  precision 
of  thought  to  think  of  movements  as  the  motion  of 
parts  of  a  machine.  In  this  notion  he  was  not  alone. 
Lord  Kelvin,  for  example,  tells  us  that  he  is  never  sure 
that  he  understands  anything  till  he  has  made  a  model 
of  it.  Descartes,  too,  liked  to  make  models  and  dia- 
grams of  things,  and  the  diagrams  in  the  work  on 
the  Princiiiiles  of  Philosophy  are  full  of  interest. 

On  them,  however,  we  need  not  dwell.  Matter  and 
motion  arose  simultaneously,  and  the  matter  of  the 
universe  was  supposed  to  be  in  motion  about  fixed 
centres.  These  centres  were  in  comparative  rest,  and 
the  larger  masses  as  they  whirled  round  came  into 
contact,  and  friction  arose.  With  friction  smaller  parts 
were  rubbed  of,  and  collected  at  the  centres.  Thus  the 
larger  bodies  might  be  conceived  to  become  larger,  and 
the  smaller  become  less.  Thus  the  smaller  bodies 
might  lose  their  independent  action,  be  carried  into 
the  eddies  which  lay  between  the  larger  bodies.  In 
this  way  he  explained  the  position  of  the  earth,  and 
was  able  to  say  that  the  earth  was  at  rest,  though  he 
believed  that  it  moved  round  the  sun.  By  this  theory 
of  vortices  he  sought  to  explain  many  of  the  properties 
of  matter,  and  did  so  to  his  own  satisfaction. 

After  all  drawbacks,  it  contains   the  germ  of  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  125 

mechanical  theory  of  the  universe.  Taken  up  by  \y 
Newton  with  larger  knowledge  and  deeper  insight/^ 
it  advanced  through  Kant  and  Laplace  till,  in  many 
quarters,  it  is  the  accepted  theory  of  the  hour.  Huxley 
is  justified  in  making  the  claim  on  behalf  of  Descartes, 
that  he  is  the  father  of  the  modern  mechanical  view  of 
the  universe.  There  is  no  doubt  that  it  has  been  a 
successful  working  hypothesis.  It  has  enabled  one  to 
have  a  firm  grasp  of  the  great  thought  of  the  wmiy^^ 
of  the  universe.  It  was  something  to  be  able  to  say 
that  all  matter  attracts  all  matter  directly  as  the  masses, 
and  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance.  All  matter 
gravitates,  whatever  be  its  state  or  temperature.  It 
was  something  also  to  be  able  to  say  that  matter  is  one 
in  the  fixed  stars  and  on  the  earth ;  and  many  other 
conclusions  have  followed,  the  chief  being  that  the 
universe  is  one  system,  existing  in  one  space  and 
in  one  time. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  things  which 
prove  that  the  world  is  not  a  mere  mechanical  system. 
It  is  a  world  with  life  in  it,  with  intelligence  in  it,  and 
the  system  of  the  world  is  one  which  needs  a  wider 
unity  than  can  be  reached  on  a  mechanical  theory. 
Mechanism  itself  needs  to  be  explained.  In  fact,  the 
mechanical  view  needs  to  be  supplemented  even  in 
the  physical  world.  Descartes  erred  on  account  of  the 
excessive  simplicity  of  the  principles  he  assumed  as 
laws  of  nature.  It  may  be  said  that  modern  physics 
errs  in  the  same  way.  We  take  up  a  book  of  mathe- 
matics or  dynamics,  and  we  find  ourselves  in  a  very 
intelligible  world,  a  world  of  validity  in  certain  direc- 
tions, but  it  is  an  abstract  world.  We  begin  with 
points  which   have   position  but  no  magnitude,  lines 


126         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

which  have  length  without  breadth,  surfaces  which 
have  no  depth,  and  we  deal  with  these  abstractions 
according  to  logical  laws.  We  are  conscious  all  the 
time  that  these  have  no  counterparts  in  the  world  of 
real  objects,  and  we  make  allowances  when  we  apply 
our  mathematics  to  the  world  of  objects. 

We  pass  to  the  world  of  motion  and  we  begin  with 
abstraction  again.  We  represent  forces  by  lines.  We 
make  our  laws  of  motion,  and  we  deal  with  matter 
as  if  it  were  altogether  inert,  moving  only  as  it  is 
moved.  Yet  all  the  while  we  know  that  energy  arises 
out  of  the  inter-relations  of  matter,  and  is  constantly 
associated  with  matter.  We  take  the  greatest  possible 
liberties  with  the  problems  set  to  us  by  the  inter- 
relations of  matter.  We  postulate  perfectly  rigid 
levers,  fulcrums  that  will  not  yield  in  the  slightest 
degree,  and  work  out  our  calculations  with  these 
abstract  aspects  of  things.  It  is  wonderful  that  we 
have  been  so  successful  in  our  endeavour  to  think 
out  the  order  of  the  world.  Think  of  what  the 
physicist  neglects.  Read  the  treatises  on  the  dynamics 
of  a  particle,  and  what  wonderful  constructions  they 
are ;  and  yet  the  particle  has  only  one  property,  namely, 
the  capacity  of  being  moved.  It  is  the  aim  of  the 
physicist  to  express  all  the  relations  of  matter  in  the 
abstract  forms  which  he  has  himself  thought  out,  and 
which  he  has  expressed  in  a  form  with  which  he  can 
work.  Is  there  not  too  much  simplicity  in  our 
formulae  ?  Descartes  abstracted  from  matter  all  its 
qualities,  and  sought  to  explain  the  world  of  matter 
from  extension,  divisibility,  and  mobility.  Is  there 
much  difference  between  this  attempt  and  the  attempt 
to  deduce  material  phenomena  from  the  play  of  inertia 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  127 

involved  in  the  motion  of  a  structureless  primordial 
fluid  ?  It  is  the  snare  of  the  physicist  to  reduce  the 
manifoldness  of  nature  to  a  simple  unity  of  scheme. 
Their  goal  is,  it  is  so  set  forth  by  some  of  them,  to 
discover  the  dynamical  laws  of  the  relations  of  matter, 
and  fully  to  express  them  in  terms  of  number,  space,  and 
time.  They  hope  to  be  able  to  make  all  physical  pheno- 
mena such  as  may  be  expressed  in  pure  mathematics. 

It  is  remarkable,  also,  that  those  who  thus  express 
their  hope  and  endeavour  are  precisely  those  who  lay 
stress  on  experiment,  and  who  affirm  that  it  is  from 
experience  and  experiment  alone  that  a  knowledge  of 
nature  is  to  be  obtained.  It  is  most  interesting  to 
read  the  writings  of  physicists  when  they  ride  their 
theoretical  hobby,  and  note  their  hope  of  finding  a 
mathematical  formula  wide  enough  to  express  the 
law  of  the  universe.  It  is  more  interesting  to  read 
accounts  of  the  scientific  work  of  these  men  in  the 
laboratory,  to  note  the  care,  the  precision,  the  exact- 
ness of  their  methods,  their  determination  to  see 
nothing  but  what  is  there,  and  to  state  exactly  what 
they  observe.  We  read  their  works  as  they  describe 
the  process  by  which  they  discover  argon,  helium, 
and  other  elements  of  matter,  and  describe  for  us 
the  unique  characters  of  these  elements.  It  looks 
as  if  we  were  in  the  company  of  two  sets  of  men. 
But  they  are  one.  Only,  the  one  is  dealing  with 
abstractions,  and  the  other  is  dealing  with  concrete 
reality.  Rather,  it  is  the  same  man  in  two  moods. 
May  we  not  say  that  there  is  a  double  movement  of 
science, — one  to  the  finding  of  wider  and  wider  laws, 
another  to  more  and  more  definite  description  of 
particulars  ? 


128         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

We  may  make  another  remark :  that  the  hope  of 
the  mathematician  that  he  will  find  the  ultimate  data 
of  the  physical  universe  to  be  number,  matter,  space, 
and  time  is  a  most  touching  instance  of  his  faith  in 
the  intelligibility  of  the  universe.  He  has  found  that 
he  can  think  most  clearly  when  he  expresses  himself 
in  mathematical  formulae.  They  are  to  him  what  clear 
and  distinct  ideas  are  to  Descartes,  and  we  need  not 
blame  him  if  he  hopes  to  translate  concrete  matter 
into  mathematical  formulae.  There  are,  however,  other 
forms  of  reasoning  perhaps  more  adequate  to  the 
problem.  It  may  truly  be  said  of  Descartes  that  he 
transformed    the   problem   of    philosophy   and    set   it 

yanew  for  subsequent  thinkers.  He  demanded  the 
Temoval  of  all  presuppositions.  Accept  nothing  that 
may  be  questioned,  and,  if  questioned,  can  still  be 
established  by  a  clear  necessity  of  thought.  Then 
he  set  up  the  principle  of  self-consciousness,  the  pure 
Ego,  as  the  principle  of  certainty,  and  affirmed  its  ex- 
istence as  the  principle  of  knowledge  and  of  being. 
He  brought  into  clear  consciousness  the  opposition 
of  being  and  thought,  of  mind  and  matter,  of  con- 
sciousness and  existence,  and  thus  set  to  philosophy 
the  problem  of  their  existence  and  of  their  relation. 
But  he  failed  to  carry  out  the  principle  of  his  method, 
and  he,  contrary  to  his  own  method,  accepted,  without 
adequate  analysis,  the  substance  of  mind,  the  substance 
of  body  as  given.     The  concept  of  substance  he  finds 

>^eady  to  hand,  and,  without  further  investigation, 
accepts  it  as  the  corner-stone  of  his  system.  The 
three  substances — self,  matter,  God — he  accepts  un- 
critically and,  it  might  be  said,  empirically.  Then 
he  defines  mind  and  body  in  such  a  way  as  to  make 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  129 

any  rational  relationship  between  them  impossible. 
They  are  only  united  as  a  matter  of  fact,  but  the 
fundamental  dualism  remains  unreconciled.  But  he 
set  the  world  a-thinking,  and  the  answers  to  the 
questions  he  raised  form  the  history  of  modern 
philosophy. 


CHAPTEE    VII 

Problems  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy — The  Place  of  Malebranche 
— Spinoza — His  Personality — The  Poetry  of  his  System — His 
Character — HisPeople — The  Aim  of  his  Philosophy — HisBirth 
— His  Training — The  Influences  which  moulded  him — Separa- 
tion from  Judaism — Friends  and  Correspondents — Kesidence 
at  Ehynsburg  and  at  Amsterdam — His  Works — His  Manner 
of  Life — His  Death. 

Descartes  raised  many  questions  and  gave  occasion  to 
many  problems,  the  answers  to  which  and  the  solutions 
of  which  he  did  not  see  or  foresee.  He  left  unclear  the 
relation  of  will  and  understanding,  the  relation  of  soul 
to  body,  and  the  relation  of  God  to  both ;  in  fact,  he 
left  to  his  successors  a  legacy  of  unsolved  probletns 
closely  connected  with  the  fundamental  principles  of 
his  philosophy.  For  one  thing,  his  definition  of  the 
nature  of  mind  and  of  the  nature  of  body  made  it 
impossible  that  there  should  be  any  interaction  between 
them.  As  soon  as  his  successors  grappled  with  this 
problem  they  saw  this  result,  and  Cordemoy  and  Geu- 
lincx  stated  this  conclusion  frankly,  while  the  latter  drew 
the  further  conclusion  that  the  changes  of  mind  and  body 
were  also  inexplicable.  It  is  not  our  purpose  to  trace 
the  development  of  Occasionalism,  though  it  was  the  in- 
evitable outcome  of  the  principles  of  Cartesianism.  Nor 
can  we  trace  the  application  of  Cartesian  principles  to 

130 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  131 

the  special  problems  of  the  intercourse  of  soul  and  body, 
of  the  relation  of  understanding  and  will,  nor  to  any- 
other  of  the  special  problems  arising  directly  out  of 
the  Cartesian  principles.  ^  The  development  which  these 
principles  received  from  Malebranche  is  interesting  in 
itself,  and  has  some  significance  in  the  history  of 
human  thought,. but  we  must  pass  it  by.  Simply  to 
state  the  outcome  of  the  speculation  of  Malebranche 
would  be  unsatisfactory,  while  to  describe  it  adequately 
would  far  exceed  our  limits.  So  we  simply  say  that 
Malebranche  applied  the  principles  of  the  Cartesian 
philosophy  to_a^number  of  particular  problems,  and 
preparedL  the_:^ay_f Qr_a_more  incisive  examination 
of  them.  We  seem  to  be  able  to  see  the  full  meaning 
of  principles  only  when  we  have  drawn  out  the  con- 
sequences that  flow  from  the  complete  acceptance  of 
them  and  the  application  of  them  to  all  relevant 
problems.  This  is  one  of  the  functions  of  Malebranche 
in  the  evolution  of  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  and  he 
has  done  it  well. 

We  shall  endeavour  to  trace  the  attempt  to  develop 
the  Cartesian  principles  and  to  make  them  a  complete 
representation  of  existence.  This  was  the  work  of 
Spinoza,  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  human  figures 
and  one  of  the  most  fascinating  of  thinkers.  His 
works  are  not  only  a  philosophy — they  are  also  works 
of  art ;  one  might  say,  looking  away  from  the  form  of 
them,  and  looking  only  to  their  spirit,  they  are  poetry. 
They  must  be  judged  accordingly.  If  we  look  merely 
to  the  form  of  his  works,  or  to  the  speculative  prin- 
ciples of  which  they  are  the  expression,  we  must  ex- 
press on  them  a  judgment  of  their  inadequacy ;  if  we 
read  ourselves  into  the  poetry  which  lies  within  them 


132         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

we  shall  find  ourselves  so  far  in  sympathy  with  Goethe, 
Schleiermacher,  and  others  who  were  penetrated  with 
the  spirit  of  the  wholeness  of  the  whole  which  is  the 
essence  of  the  system  of  Spinoza.  One  can  hardly 
read  Spinoza  in  cold  blood:  his  spirit  penetrates  us; 
we  feel  the  influence  of  his  spiritual  energy,  and,  pro- 
test as  we  may,  we  are  carried  away  by  the  current  of 
his  thought,  and  we  find  ourselves  attempting  to  give 
a  meaning  to  his  system  which  will  not  contradict  our 
own  fundamental  principles.  There  is  the  terrible 
earnestness  of  the  man,  his  serious  endeavour  to  find 
unity  in  thought  and  in  things ;  there  is  his  tremendous 
purity,  which  is  ever  present  to  the  reader.  There 
comes  in  the  later  books  of  the  Ethics  the  time  when 
the  stream  overflows  its  boundaries,  and  the  mere 
abstract  substance  with  its  two  manifested  attributes 
seems  to  pass  into  the  background,  and  a  being  not 
unlike  the  Jehovah  of  the  Hebrews  takes  its  place, 
and  we  find  that  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  be  penetrated 
with  the  intellectual  love  of  God. 

Again,  as  we  near  the  end  of  this  wonderful  book, 
a  higher  ideal  of  man  seems  to  emerge ;  how  we  can 
hardly  tell,  yet  a  figure  of  man  appears  which  seems 
to  have  a  transcendent  worth,  and  has  some  kind  of 
immortality,  —  something  which  seems  to  transcend 
space  and  time,  and  to  need  eternity  for  the  realisation 
of  man.  No  one  can  read  the  last  three  books  of  the 
Ethics  without  emotion  of  the  most  piercing  kind,  nor 
can  they  be  read  without  the  conviction  that  Spinoza, 
the  man  and  the  Hebrew,  has  so  far  parted  company 
with  the  philosopher,  the  mere  abstract  thinker  and 
the  man  of  speculative  thought,  and  that  the  spirit  of 
the  Hebrew  people  within  him  has  gotten  the  victory. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  133 

Spinoza  is  one  of  many  instances  of  the  influence  on 
thought  of  the  principle  of  cross-fertilisation.  We  may- 
go  far  back  to  the  book  of  the  Son  of  Sirach  for 
its  first  illustration,  and  we  may  find  illustrations  in 
Philo-Judseus,  in  Maimonides,  and  in  others  in  whom 
the  abstract  power  of  speculative  thought  was  united 
with  the  intensity,  the  moral  earnestness,  and  the 
ethical  intuition  of  the  Jew,  to  produce  those  works 
which  have  not  been  without  influence  on  the  progress 
of  human  thought.  What  is  Christian  theology  but 
another  illustration  of  the  union  of  Aryan  thought 
with  the  spirit  of  Hebrew  life  and  thought  ?  If  ever 
thought  has  wedded  fact,  it  has  been  in  the  union  of 
Greek  thought  with  the  spirit  of  Hebrew  life,  where 
the  dialectic  method  of  Greece  has  been  applied  to  the 
elucidation  of  the  Hebrew  doctrine  of  God,  man,  and 
the  world. 

Spinoza  was  a  Hebrew,  and  the  intensity  of  the 
Hebrew  is  present  in  all  his  works.  It  may  not  be 
possible  to  trace  the  influence  of  Hebrew  thinkers  on 
his  system  of  philosophy,  nor  to  prove  his  indebtedness 
to  particular  thinkers  of  the  Middle  Ages,  but  the 
general  influence  of  race  and  nationality  is  clear.  Nor 
could  the  general  training  of  his  people  and  the  life 
of  the  school  and  the  synagogue  have  been  without 
influence  on  him.  The  long  tradition  of  his  people, 
their  wondrous  history  in  the  past  of  long  ago,  and 
their  lot  in  times  of  persecution  in  the  ages  of  Christian- 
ity must  have  had  their  influence,  even  though  g,t  an 
early  period  the  Jewish  interpretation  of  that  history 
no  longer  commended  itself  to  his  mind.  The  very 
effort  by  which  he  placed  himself  outside  of  the  Jewish 
community  was  so  far  the  measure  of  its  influence  on 


134         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

the  development  of  his  mind.  The  past  of  the  race  of 
a  man,  the  achievement  of  a  man's  people,  cling  to  him, 
and  have  an  influence  beyond  the  operation  of  his  con- 
scious thought  and  outside  the  influence  of  his  specu- 
lative principles.  So  Spinoza,  the  Jew,  inherits,  almost 
without  his  knowledge,  the  spirit  of  the  Hebrew  pro- 
phets, and  this  spirit  appears  in  the  overflowing  of  his 
ethical  system  in  the  concluding  books  of  the  Ethics. 
The  spirit  of  the  prophets  appears  also  in  his  ability  to 
bear  solitude,  in  the  power  of  being  content  with  his  own 
ideal  of  character  and  conduct,  in  the  capacity  of  taking 
his  own  way  in  response  to  the  inward  call,  unhindered 
by  opposition,  not  deterred  by  calumny,  resolved  to 
think  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  true,  and  to  do  the 
right  and  follow  the  good,  gainsay  these  who  might. 

All  men  may  join  in  admiration  of  his  character  and 
conduct ;  even  those  who  look  at  his  system  as  false, 
dangerous,  and  altogether  inadequate  as  a  theory  of 
life  and  as  an  interpretation  of  experience.  Even 
from  his  system  we  may  learn  something,  and  what 
we  learn  may  be  of  abiding  value.  We  may  learn 
that  unity  we  must  seek  after  until  we  find  it.  We 
must  find  an  interpretation  of  our  experience  which 
shall  do  justice  to  all  the  elements  of  it,  and  which, 
at  the  same  time,  will  represent  it  as  a  unity  and  as 
a  system.  This  was  the  endeavour  of  Spinoza.  He 
occupies  the  central  position  in  the  thought  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  All  the  tendencies  of  the  time 
seem  to  meet  in  him.  He  has  affinity  with  all  of 
them.  The  scientific  movement  of  the  Renaissance 
is  within  him  as  a  passion,  and  he  responds  to  it  in 
every  fibre  of  his  being ;  the  mysticism  of  the  Middle 
Ages  and  the  mysticism  of  the  Hebrew  people  are  in 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  135 

him.  He  seeks  to  think  clearly  and  to  know  the 
principles  which  inform  all  things,  but  he  thinks 
these  out  mainly  for  the  guidance  of  life  and  for 
the  interests  of  conduct.  All  these  diverse  interests 
meet  in  him,  and  he  seeks  to  bind  them  all  into  the 
organic  unity  of  a  logical  system.  Nor  is  the  bond 
an  external  one,  nor  is  the  unity  that  of  a  barrel  held 
together  by  hoops.  This  is  the  characteristic  of  the 
other  systems  of  that  century.  Principles  are  held 
together  by  external  bonds;  Spinoza  sought  for  an 
inward  bond  of  unity  by  which  the  new  knowledge 
of  the  world  and  of  man  could  be  wrought  into  a 
system.  It  was  a  great  aim,  and  a  worthy  ambition  to 
which  he  devoted  his  life.  What  if  the  attempt  was 
a  failure,  what  if  his  principles  did  not  do  justice  to 
all  the  interests  concerned,  still  to  dream  of  such  an 
enterprise  was  symptomatic  of  greatness.  He  sought 
to  conserve  the  reality  and  independence  of  the 
spiritual,  while  doing  justice  to  objective  world  order. 
He  sought  to  make  the  external  and  the  internal  one, 
with  a  common  movement  wide  enough  to  explain 
them  both.  That  the  principle  which  was  operative  in 
the  whole  world  order,  as  such,  should  be  the  principle 
which  could  explain  the  persistence  of  each  thing  in 
its  own  particular  mode  of  being,  was  his  main  thought ; 
and  surely  it  was  a  great  conception.  He  was  driven 
to  think,  to  speculate,  to  work  from  the  pressure  of 
the  inward  need  for  clearness  and  comprehension 
of  himself  and  of  the  world  in  which  he  lived.  Pro- 
blems worried  him  till  it  was  easier  for  him  to  work 
at  their  solution  than  not  to  work.  Nor  was  he 
content  with  vague  thinking;  he  laboured  at  the 
expression  of  his  thought,  as  a  poet  labours  to  find 


136         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

a  fit  expression  for  his  poetry.  Of  these  things  we 
shall  have  abundant  proof  as  we  proceed. 

Benedict  Spinoza  was  born  at  Amsterdam  on  24th 
November  1632.  His  parents  were  Spanish  Jews, 
who  had  fled  from  Spain  to  avoid  the  rigours  of 
the  Inquisition.  He  received  the  usual  training 
of  a  Jewish  boy  of  the  time.  Such  training  gave 
him  a  knowledge  of  the  traditions  of  his  fathers, 
made  him  acquainted  with  the  Hebrew  Scriptures, 
with  the  Talmud,  and  with  the  Jewish  philosophy  of 
the  time.  Many  questions  and  problems  would  thus 
be  brought  before  his  mind.  In  all  likelihood  the 
mediaeval  Jewish  philosophy  and  the  speculations 
arising  among  the  Jews  may  have  come  to  his  know- 
ledge. Traces  of  the  influence  of  such  speculations 
are  to  be  found  in  his  works,  yet  the  evidence  is  not 
direct,  and  the  question  is  more  curious  than  important. 
It  is  clear  enough  that  the  intensity  and  definiteness  of 
the  Hebrew  thought  about  the  oneness  of  God,  which 
had  been  the  ancient  heritage  of  his  people,  influenced 
him,  and  helped  him  to  the  emphasis  which  he  laid  on 
the  conception  of  God  as  the  one  infinite  Being,  in 
which  all  things  lived  and  moved  and  had  their  being. 
This  mystic  tendency  towards  the  unity  of  the  One- 
and-all  is  the  centre  of  all  his  striving,  and  towards 
the  adequate  expression  of  it  he  gave  all  his  strength. 

He  did  not  limit  himself  to  the  instruction  he  could 
receive  from  the  schools  of  his  people.  He  set  himself 
to  acquire  the  new  learning  of  his  age.  He  studied 
natural  science  and  the  humanities.  A  new  world 
had  opened  to  the  view  of  the  people  of  that  age. 
Knowledge  was  increased,  and  it  was  accessible  to  all 
who  sought  it.     Spinoza  received  instruction  in  Latin 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  137 

from  Van  Ende,  a  physician,  and  the  command  of 
Latin  was  the  passport  to  all  the  learning  of  the 
time.  According  to  the  statement  of  his  biographer, 
Colerus,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  study  of  physics. 
He  may  have  read  the  works  of  Giordano  Bruno, 
as  there  are  some  coincidences  between  his  writings 
and  those  of  Bruno.  It  may  have  been  from  Bruno 
that  his  desire  to  unite  the  religious  ideas  which  he 
held  as  Jewish  with  the  scientific  conception  of  nature 
found  a  *way  to  satisfy  itself.  From  his  scientific 
studies  he  reached  the  scientific  conception  of  nature, 
a  conception  which  was  not  a  Jewish  inheritance. 
The  Old  Testament  has  no  conception  of  nature,  and 
the  conception  of  nature  as  such  is  mainly  due  to 
the  influence  of  the  Greeks.  But  the  conception  of 
God — the  Eternal,  the  Unchangeable,  the  One — was 
essentially  a  Hebrew  idea,  and  belonged  to  Spinoza 
as  part  of  his  heritage.  So  great  was  the  Hebrew 
conception  of  God  that  in  the  light  of  Him  the  world 
tended  to  disappear,  and  the  whole  system  of  second 
causes  tended  to  lose  even  their  relative  independence. 
The  task  of  Spinoza  thus  defined  itself  for  him, — how 
to  unite  the  conception  of  God  with  the  conception 
of  nature,  and  how  to  state  that  union  so  as  to  keep 
the  essential  characteristics  of  both  conceptions. 

Of  the  range  and  extent  of  his  studies  we  can 
have  only  a  faint  knowledge.  M.  Joel  (Beitrdge  zur 
Geschichte  der  Philosophie)  makes  out  a  good  case 
for  the  probability  that  Spinoza  had  profoundly 
studied  both  Jewish  theology  and  Jewish  law,  and 
that  these  had  a  profound  influence  on  his  thought. 
There  are  good  grounds  also  for  the  belief  that 
he   was   acquainted    with   the    scholastic    philosophy, 


138         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

from  the  use  which  he  makes  of  scholastic  terms  and 
arguments  in  the  Cogitatio  Metaphysica,  published 
as  an  appendix  to  his  exposition  of  the  Car- 
tesian philosophy.  Later,  Spinoza  became  acquainted 
with  the  works  of  Descartes,  Bacon,  and  Hobbes, 
and  it  is  evident  that  he  was  a  wide  reader  and 
diligent  student  of  the  works  of  other  people.  His 
work  is  no  system  in  the  air,  it  has  its  roots  deep 
down  in  the  history  of  human  thought;  if  he  gave 
to  it  a  form  personal  and  original,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  every  great  system  of  philosophy  has  this 
personal  element.  Every  gi-eat  system  of  philosophy 
is  a  synthesis  of  the  impersonal  and  the  personal, — 
the  impersonal  being  the  human  achievement  of  the 
past,  the  personal  being  the  unique  product  of  the 
man  who  gave  the  system  its  content  and  form. 

As  the  result  of  his  study  and  reflection  Spinoza 
could  no  longer  live  within  the  system  of  life  and 
thought  which  satisfied  his  kinsmen.  He  came  to 
doubt  the  Jewish  philosophy,  the  Jewish  religion, 
and  the  Scriptures.  Every  year  led  him  further  and 
further  away  from  the  life  and  beliefs  of  the  syna- 
gogue. The  authorities  began  to  suspect  him,  they 
attempted  to  keep  a  youth  of  such  promise  attached 
to  the  synagogue,  and  offered  him  a  yearly  pension 
if  he  would  agree  to  abide  with  them.  He  rejected  the 
offer,  nor  was  he  influenced  in  the  desired  direction 
by  the  attempt  of  a  fanatical  Jew  to  assassinate 
him.  Matters  came  to  a  crisis  in  1656,  when  he  was 
solemnly  expelled  from  the  Jewish  congregation.  He 
was  also  compelled  to  leave  Amsterdam.  He  lived 
for  a  time  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Amsterdam.  In 
accordance    with    the   time-honoured   Jewish   custom. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  139 

that  every  Jew  should  learn  a  trade,  he  had  learned 
the  business  of  polishing  optical  glasses,  and  this 
served  now  as  means  for  earning  a  livelihood.  For 
a  time  friends  in  the  town  fetched  the  glasses  to 
town  and  sold  them  for  him.  He  was  not  without 
attached  friends.  He  had  little  sympathy  with  the 
fanaticism  of  the  Jews,  and  less  with  the  fanaticism 
of  the  Protestants  and  Roman  Catholics  of  the  time. 
He  wanted  quietness  and  rest  for  the  ordering  of 
the  thoughts  regarding  man,  the  world,  and  God, 
which  were  crowding  in  on  him ;  and  at  this  quiet 
time  he  wrote  his  tract,  Tractatus  Brevis  de  Deo  et 
Homine,  ejusque  Felicitate. 

There  was  little  in  the  aspects  of  the  time  or  in 
the  ordinary  pursuits  of  men  to  attract  a  man  whose 
chief  need  was  knowledge,  and  whose  chief  desire 
was  to  unite  himself  with  the  permanent  and  un- 
changeable, and  to  look  at  all  things  sub  specie 
ceternitatis.  To  live  for  knowledge,  to  think  out 
all  his  thoughts  into  perfect  clearness,  had  become 
his  chief  aim  and  his  highest  satisfaction.  The 
Tractatus  is  of  significance  mainly  for  the  light  it 
casts  on  the  development  of  the  system  of  Spinoza. 
Lost  sight  of  for  some  time  and  discovered  in  a  most 
interesting  manner,  this  treatise  shows  us  Spinoza  on 
the  search  for  a  method,  and  on  the  way  towards 
the  expression  of  his  fundamental  principles.  It 
shows  the  influence  of  Descartes  on  the  mind  of 
Spinoza.  The  ontology,  the  method,  the  psychology, 
and  the  view  of  the  passions  are  largely  those  of 
Descartes.  The  variations  from  Descartes  are  never- 
theless significant.  Hp-  accepts  Determinism,  regards 
the  possible  as  actual,  makes   nature   one  with   God, 


\ 


140         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

and  these  deviations  show  us  the  author  moving  away 
from  Cartesianism  to  his  own  system. 

In  the  year  1661  he  moved  to  Rhynsburg,  a  small 
town  near  Leyden,  where  he  dwelt  for  two  years. 
Outwardly  uneventful,  they  were  significant  for  the 
progress  made  by  him  towards  the  completion  of 
his  system.  Determinism  was  the  keynote  of  his 
system.  All  things  determined  by  fixed  sequence 
and  ruled  by  one  method,  so  that  all  the  phenomena 
of  experience  might  be  seen  in  their  unity — this  was 
his  aim.  Ontology,  ethics,  physics,  politics  are  parts 
of  one  organism,  ruled  by  one  principle,  informed 
by  one  method.  Having  come  to  this  view,  the  ques- 
tion arose  as  to  the  best  method  of  exposition  and 
the  best  order  of  thought.  This  need  led  him  to 
a  deliberate  study  of  method,  the  result  of  which  we 
find  in  the  unfinished  treatise,  De  Tntellecttis  Eiiien- 
datione.  He  was  influenced  also  in  the  study  of 
method  by  the  necessity  of  teaching.  He  had 
to  teach  one  of  his  friends,  Albert  Burgh,  in  the 
Cartesian  philosophy.  He  selected  the  second  party 
of  Descartes'  Princiioles,  and  part  of  the  third, 
and  resolved  to  treat  these  synthetically  after  the 
geometrical  method ;  and  this  experiment,  with  its 
apparent  success,  probably  had  some  influence  on 
his  resolve  to  cast  his  great  work  into  this  synthetic 
form.  The  Principia  Fhilosophice  Cartesiance,  with 
an  appendix  Cogitata  Metaphysica,  were  published  in 
1668,  under  his  own  name. 

As  to  the  men  who  were  in  intimate  relationship 
with  Spinoza  at  this  time,  we  find  some  information 
in  the  correspondence.  Albert  Burgh  was  a  pupil 
of  Spinoza,  who  afterwards  became  a  Roman  Catholic, 


THE   NEW    PHILOSOPHY  141 

and  wrote  to  his  master  a  curious  letter  which  met 
with  a  crushing  reply  (Ep.  76).  Another  was  Hein- 
rich  Oldenburg,  of  Bremen,  who  came  to  England  as 
Consul  under  the  Protectorate.  Oldenburg  was 
friendly  with  many  distinguished  Englishmen,  was 
acting  secretary  of  the  Royal  Society,  and  editor  of 
its  Transactions  for  a  time.  He  had  many  interests, 
was  full  of  curiosity  regarding  scientific  and  philo- 
sophical matters,  and,  though  not  of  great  faculty 
himself,  yet  had  a  desire  for  the  company  of  great 
men.  The  first  letter  of  the  correspondence  is  from 
him  to  Spinoza.  In  it  he  speaks  of  the  conversations 
they  had  at  Rhynsburg — of  God,  of  extension,  of  infinite 
thought,  of  the  differences  and  agreements  between 
these,  of  the  nature  of  the  connection  between  soul 
and  body,  and  of  the  principles  of  the  Cartesian  and 
Baconian  philosophies.  As  these  conversations  were 
only  quasi  per  transennam  et  in  transciirsti,  he  desires 
fuller  information  mainly  on  two  points :  first,  as  to  the 
true  distinction  between  mind  and  matter ;  and,  second, 
as  to  the  chief  defects  of  the  Cartesian  and  Baconian 
philosophies.  The  answer  of  Spinoza  is  of  great  in- 
terest, for  it  encloses  definitions,  axioms,  and  the  first 
four  propositions  of  Book  I.  of  the  Ethics.  It  defines 
the  idea  of  God  and  describes  Substance  and  Attri- 
bute, and  finally  criticises  Descartes  and  Bacon. 
This  letter  shows  that  Spinoza  had  studied  the  works 
of  Descartes  and  Bacon,  that  he  was,  in  fact,  in  the 
full  stream  of  the  New  Learning.  He  thinks  that 
Descartes  and  Bacon  have  strayed  too  far  from  the 
knowledge  of  the  First  Cause  and  the  origin  of  all 
things;  that  they  do  not  recognise  the  true  nature 
of  the  human  mind,  and  have  not  grasped   the   true 


142         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

nature  of  error.  Had  they  trained  themselves  rightly 
they  would  have  discerned  the  need  of  correct  know- 
ledge on  these  three  points.  His  criticism  concentrates 
itself  on  Bacon.  Bacon  does  not  prove,  he  simply 
narrates;  Bacon  assumes  that  the  intellect  errs,  not 
merely  because  it  is  deceived  by  the  senses  —  it  is 
fallacious  in  its  very  nature  (sua  sola  natura) ;  intellect 
fashions  (fingit)  all  things  from  the  analogy  of  its 
own  nature,  not  after  the  analogy  of  the  universe. 
Intellect  mixes  its  own  nature  with  the  nature  of  things. 
Further,  Spinoza  accuses  Bacon  of  holding  that  the 
intellect  is  prone  to  abstractions,  and  such  things  as 
are  in  a  flux  it  feigns  to  be  constant ;  and,  finally,  that 
he  is  unfair  to  the  nature  of  intellect,  because  he 
affirms  of  it  that  it  is  in  a  constant  movement,  and 
is  unable  to  stand  still  or  to  be  content. 

The  final  criticism  is  worthy  of  mention.  It  refers 
to  the  Cartesian  principle  that  the  will  is  free,  and 
more  extensive  than  the  intellect,  or,  in  the  words  of 
Bacon,  "  the  understanding  is  not  a  dry  light,  but 
receives  infusion  from  the  will."  It  is  characteristic  of 
Spinoza  that  he  should  affirm  that  will  in  general 
diff"ers  from  this  or  that  particular  volition,  precisely  as 
whiteness  differs  from  this  or  that  white  object,  or 
humanity  from  this  or  that  man.  Will  is  merely  an 
entity  of  the  reason,  and  cannot  be  called  the  cause  of 
particular  volitions,  and  as  these  need  a  cause  the  will 
is  not  free.  Thus  we  learn  that  in  1661  the  main 
features  of  his  system  were  already  fully  thought  out. 

The  years  of  his  residence  in  Rhynsburg  were 
fruitful  years:  he  had  come  to  conclusions  regarding 
method,  he  had  applied  the  method  to  its  objects ;  in 
short,  he  found  that  the  rules  of   knowing  and  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  143 

nature  of  the  things  known  were  mutually  involved, 
the  one  implied  the  other.  The  De  Intellectus  Emenda- 
tione  was  the  exposition  of  the  formal  rules  of  know- 
ing. The  Ethica  was  the  application  of  them  to  the 
elucidation  of  reality,  as  it  appeared  to  Spinoza.  In 
1663  Spinoza  removed  to  Voorburg,  a  village  about 
two  miles  from  Amsterdam,  where  he  dwelt  until  1670  ; 
afterwards  he  resided  in  the  Hague  itself,  till  his  death 
in  1677.  During  this  period  he  made  many  friends 
and  many  enemies.  Of  his  friends  we  have  already 
named  Oldenburg,  and  of  the  others  the  ablest  and 
most  conspicuous  was  Ludwig  von  Tschirnhausen,  a 
Bohemian  nobleman,  whose  work  in  science  is  of 
worth  and  whose  philosophic  ability  was  of  value. 

In  1670  the  Tractatus.  Theologico-Politicus  was 
published  anonymously,  and  met  a  fierce  reception. 
Into  the  history  of  that  reception  it  is  not  necessary  to 
enter,  nor  at  present  into  the  merits  of  the  book.  The 
book  was  prohibited  by  the  States-General,  and  was 
placed  on  the  Index  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 

Of  curious  interest  is  the  correspondence  between 
Spinoza  and  Oldenburg,  which  may  be  read  in  the  Van 
Vloten  edition  of  the  works  of  Spinoza,  vol.  ii.  Being 
secretary  of  the  Royal  Society,  and  interested  in  all 
the  work  of  the  society,  Oldenburg  tells  Spinoza  of 
the  work.  He  sends  him  the  latest  scientific  news  and 
the  most  recent  discoveries  in  physics.  The  criticisms 
of  Spinoza  are  instructive,  as  they  illustrate  the  weak- 
ness of  mere  deductive  reasoning  as  applied  to  matters 
of  fact,  and  the  need  of  ascertaining  what  the  facts  are. 
The  experiments  of  Boyle  are  not  appreciated  by 
Spinoza,  and  the  deductive  reasoning  of  Spinoza  does 
not  appeal  to  Boyle.     Yet  the  reasoning  of  Spinoza  is 


144         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

acute,  and  the  letters  are  full  of  interest.  The  physi- 
cists have  gotten  them  the  victory,  but  Spinoza  has 
had  his  revenge,  as  the  physicists  nowadays  are  not 
content  till  they  bring  all  the  movements  of  nature 
within  the  sweep  of  one  magnificent  formula.  Physical 
science  aims  at  deduction  as  its  goal. 

In  1673  the  Elector  Palatine  offered  to  Spinoza  a 
professorship  of  philosophy  at  Heidelberg.  It  was  de- 
clined, and  the  reasons  of  declinature  may  be  quoted. 
"  I  have  been  unable  to  induce  myself  to  accept  this 
splendid  opportunity,  though  I  have  long  deliberated 
about  it.  I  think,  in  the  first  place,  that  I  should 
abandon  philosophical  research  if  I  consented  to  find 
time  for  teaching  young  students.  I  think,  in  the 
second  place,  that  I  do  not  know  the  limits  within 
which  the  freedom  of  my  philosophical  teaching  would 
be  confined,  if  I  am  to  avoid  all  appearance  of  disturb- 
ing the  publicly  established  religion.  Religious  quarrels 
do  not  arise  so  much  from  ardent  zeal  for  religion,  as 
from  men's  various  dispositions  and  love  of  contra- 
diction, which  causes  them  to  habitually  distort  and 
condemn  everything,  however  rightly  it  may  have 
been  said.  I  have  experienced  these  results  in  my 
private  and  secluded  station,  how  much  more  should  I 
have  to  fear  them  after  my  elevation  to  this  post  of 
honour  "  (Letter  54,  Elwes'  Trans.). 

The  desire  to  devote  himself  altogether  to  philo- 
sophy, and  the  resolve  to  say  the  thing  he  saw  and 
nothing  else,  determined  his  path.  He  continued  to 
live  at  the  Hague,  first  in  the  house  afterwards  occupied 
by  Colerus,  his  biographer,  and  afterwards  in  a  less 
expensive  house.  The  last  five  years  and  a  half  of  his 
life  were  spent  in  the  quietest  possible  way,  ready  to 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  145 

receive  all  who  called  on  him,  but  declining  to  visit  in 
turn. 

He   had   friends  who   came   to   see   him,  and  were 
ready  to  provide  for  his  comfort,  had  he  allowed  them. 
The  brothers  De  Witt,  who  were  so  rudely  treated  by 
their  countrymen,  were  among  his  friends.     Glimpses 
of   distinguished   visitors   are  obtained,  the  most  dis- 
tinguished  of   whom   was  perhaps  Leibniz.      Of   the 
relations  between  them,  of  the  fact  that  Leibniz  called 
on  him,  that  he  had  read  the  Ethica,  and  that  he  had 
thought   deeply   on   the   problems   of    the   system   of 
Spinoza,  much  might  be  said  were  there  space.     The 
main   thing    here   is    to    note   the    quietness    of    his 
declining  years,  and  his  mental  activity.    He  continued 
to   brood   over   the   problems  of   existence  while   life 
lasted.     In  some  ways  his  was  an  ideal  life.     He  was 
almost  idolized  by  the   family  with  which  he  lived. 
Colerus  tells  us :  "  If  he  was  very  frugal  in  his  way  of 
living,  his  conversation  was  also  very  sweet  and  easy. 
He  knew  admirably  well  how  to  master  his  passions : 
he  was  never  seen  very  melancholy,  nor  very  merry. 
He  had  the  command  of  his  anger,  and  if  at  any  time 
he  was  uneasy  in   his   mind,  it   did   not  appear  out- 
wardly ;   or  if   he  happened   to   express  his   grief  by 
some  gestures,  or  by  some  words,  he  never  failed  to 
retire   immediately,  for  fear  of  doing  an  unbecoming 
thing.     He  was,  besides,  very  courteous  and  obliging; 
he   would    very   often   discourse   with    his    landlady, 
especially  when  she  lay  in,  and  with  the  people  of  the 
house  when  they  happened  to  be  sick  or  afflicted ;  he 
never  failed  then  to  comfort  them,  and  exhort  them  to 
bear  with  patience  those  evils  which  God  assigned  to 
them  as  a  lot.     He  put  the  children  in  mind  of  going 
10 


146         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

often  to  church,  and  taught  them  to  be  obedient  and 
dutiful  to  their  parents.  When  the  people  of  the 
house  came  from  church  he  would  often  ask  them 
what  they  had  learned,  and  what  they  could  re- 
member of  the  sermon.  He  had  a  great  esteem  for 
Dr.  Cordes,  my  predecessor;  who  was  a  learned  and 
good-natured  man,  and  of  an  exemplary  life,  which 
gave  occasion  to  Spinoza  to  praise  him  very  often. 
Nay,  he  went  sometimes  to  hear  him  preach,  and  he 
esteemed  particularly  his  learned  way  of  explaining 
the  Scriptures,  and  the  solid  application  he  made  of  it. 
He  advised,  at  the  time,  his  landlord  and  the  people  of 
the  house  not  to  miss  any  sermon  of  so  excellent  a 
preacher.  It  happened  one  day  that  his  landlady 
asked  him  whether  he  believed  she  could  be  saved  in 
the  religion  she  professed :  he  answered,  your  religion 
is  a  good  one,  you  need  not  look  for  another,  nor  doubt 
that  you  may  be  saved  in  it,  provided  that  whilst  you 
apply  yourself  to  piety,  you  live  at  the  same  time  a 
peaceable  and  quiet  life"  (quoted  from  the  Appendix 
to  Sir  F.  Pollock's  work  on  Spinoza,  pp.  420,  421). 

From  his  own  writings  we  may  gather  the  expression 
of  those  principles  which  he  wrought  into  his  daily 
life.  "  Assuredly  nothing  forbids  man  to  enjoy  himself 
save  grim  and  gloomy  superstitions.  For  why  is  it  more 
lawful  to  satiate  one's  hunger  and  thirst  than  to  drive 
away  one's  melancholy  ?  I  reason,  and  have  convinced 
myself  as  follows :  no  deity,  nor  any  one  else,  save  the 
envious,  takes  pleasure  in  my  infirmity  and  discomfort, 
nor  sets  down  to  my  virtue  the  tears,  sobs,  fear,  and 
the  like,  which  are  signs  of  the  infirmity  of  spirit ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  greater  the  pleasure  wherewith  we 
are  affected   the  greater  the   perfection   whereto  we 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  147 

pass ;  in  other  words,  the  more  must  we  partake  of  the 
divine  nature  "  (Ethics,  Part  IV.  Prop.  45,  Note,  Elwes' 
Trans.). 

Lest  this  should  be  misunderstood  we  ought  to  carry 
with  us  Spinoza's  doctrine  of  pleasure,  which  we  shall 
see  by  and  by.  We  make  another  quotation,  as  it 
casts  some  light  on  the  practical  ethics  of  Spinoza. 
"  He  who,  guided  by  emotion  only,  endeavours  to  cause 
others  to  love  what  he  loves  himself,  and  to  make  the 
rest  of  the  world  live  according  to  his  own  fancy,  acts 
solely  by  impulse,  and  is  therefore  hateful,  especially 
to  those  who  take  delight  in  something  different,  and 
accordingly  study,  and  by  similar  impulse  endeavour, 
to  make  men  live  in  accordance  with  what  pleases 
themselves.  Again,  as  the  highest  good  sought  by  men 
under  the  guidance  of  emotion  is  often  such  that  it 
can  only  be  possessed  by  a  single  individual,  it  follows 
that  those  who  love  it  are  not  consistent  in  their 
intentions,  but,  while  they  delight  to  sing  its  praises, 
fear  to  be  believed.  But  he  who  endeavours  to  lead 
men  by  reason  does  not  act  by  impulse,  but  courteously 
and  kindly,  and  his  intention  is  always  consistent. 
Again,  whatsoever  we  desire  and  do,  whereof  we  are 
the  cause  in  so  far  as  we  possess  the  idea  of  God,  or 
know  God,  I  set  down  to  religion.  The  desire  of  well- 
doing which  is  engendered  by  a  life  according  to 
reason  I  call  piety  "  (Ethics,  Part  IV.  Prop.  38,  Elwes' 
Trans.  Note  I.). 

In  his  self-command,  in  his  regard  for  the  welfare 
for  others,  he  carried  out  in  practice  the  precepts  he 
had  set  forth  so  admirably  in  the  later  part  of  the 
Ethics.  Of  that  teaching  we  shall  speak  later.  Mean- 
while let  us  note  how  the   days  passed  in  quietness, 


148  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

with  its  meditative  work  interspersed  with  manual 
labour,  each  in  harmony  and  measure.  His  health 
failed;  indeed,  he  had  never  been  strong.  He  had 
suffered  from  consumption,  and  for  many  years  had 
to  live  almost  by  rule.  The  end  came  suddenly  and 
quietly  ;  he  died  in  February  1677.  It  was  a  strenuous 
life  that  he  had  lived.  Stern  and  lonely  was  his  lot; 
the  victim  of  persecution  during  his  lifetime,  his  fate 
in  the  history  of  philosophy  is  not  unlike  that  of  his 
earthly  life.  Fierce  have  been  the  criticisms  passed  on 
his  system  of  thought,  strong  have  been  the  denuncia- 
tions directed  against  him  and  his  works.  But  the 
defence  has  been  as  keen  as  the  attack.  He  was  for  a 
century  more  denounced  than  read.  The  Aufkldritng 
had  little  sympathy  with  Spinoza,  his  thought  was  not 
transparent  to  the  Illumination.  But  on  the  revival  of 
philosophy,  and  on  the  agitation  of  its  deeper  principles, 
Spinoza  came  to  the  front,  and  his  system  won  the 
admiration  of  poets  like  Goethe,  men  of  literature  like 
Schiller  and  Lessing,  and  of  the  greatest  philosophers 
of  the  golden  age  of  philosophy  in  Germany.  Nor 
were  there  lacking  theologians  who  found  that  they 
might  learn  something  from  him.  Schleiermacher  found 
much  to  admire  in  his  life  and  work,  and  Dorner 
recognises  that  his  work  had  some  significance  for 
theology. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

De  Intellectus  E mendatione— The  Searcli  for  a  Method — The  Rules 
of  Method — True  and  adequate  Ideas— Ideas  and  Abstractions 
— Definition— The  Understanding— Properties  of  the  Under- 
standing— General  Laws— The  Order  and  Connection  of  Ideas, 
and  the  Order  and  Connection  of  Things— Causality — Hume 
—Degrees  of  Knowledge,  perfect  Knowledge. 

Thp:  method  of  Descartes  was  a  measure  devised  by 
him  in  relief  of  doubt.  By  the  application  of  rigid 
doubt  to  every  conviction,  he  sought  to  arrive  at  a 
principle  which  could  not  be  doubted.  He  was  in 
search  of  certainty,  and  he  seemed  to  find  it  in  the 
Cogito,  ergo  sum.  Having  found  his  principle,  he  used 
it  as  the  source  and  criterion  of  knowledge.  Thus  his 
procedure  was  intellectual,  not  ethical ;  and  ethics 
was  scarcely  touched  by  him.  Spinoza  has  also  had 
his  voyage  of  exploration ;  but  he  is  in  search  of 
another  goal,  and  has  a  different  vision  in  his  mind. 
Descartes  sought  a  principle  of  certainty;  Spinoza 
sought  for  the  good.  His  Treatise  de  Intellectus  Emen- 
datione  has  the  place  in  his  works  which  the  treatise 
on  Method  has  in  the  work  of  Descartes.  It  has  a 
sub-title,  or  an  addition  to  the  title,  Et  de  Via,  qua 
oiJtirae  in  veram  reriom  cognitionem  dirigitivr — How 
the  Intellect  may  best  be  guided  to  a  True  Knowledge 
of  Things.     But  a  true  knowledge  is  desirable  in  order 

149 


ISO         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

that  men  may  obtain  the  true  and  final  good.  The 
opening  pages  of  the  De  Intellecttts  Emendatione 
describes  the  ordinary  objects  of  men's  desires,  and 
proceeds  to  an  appreciation  of  the  true  and  final  good. 
Spinoza  wishes  to  direct  all  sciences  to  one  aim,  one 
end :  to  wit,  that  men  may  reach  supreme  human  per- 
fection. This  is  the  highest  good  ever  to  be  sought 
after  ;  and  all  science  and  research  are  of  value  just  as 
they  serve  this  great  end.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that 
good  and  bad,  perfect  and  imperfect,  are  relative  terms, 
and  that  nothing  in  its  own  nature  can  be  called 
perfect  or  imperfect,  for  all  things  come  to  pass  accord- 
ing to  the  eternal  order  and  fixed  laws  of  nature. 
But,  he  continues,  human  weakness  cannot  attain  to 
this  order  in  its  own  thoughts ;  but  man  can  conceive 
a  human  character  much  more  stable  than  his  own, 
and  he  may  acquire  such  a  character.  Everything  that 
is  a  means  towards  the  acquisition  of  a  perfect  char- 
acter is  good.  And  the  chief  good  is,  that  he  should 
arrive,  together  with  other  individuals,  if  possible,  at 
V  the  possession  of  this  character.  Knowledge  is  a  means 
to  this  end,  specially  the  knowledge  of  the  union  exist- 
ing between  the  mind  and  the  whole  of  nature.  "  This, 
then,  is  the  end  for  which  I  strive,  to  attain  to  such  a 
character  mj^self,  and  to  endeavour  that  others  may 
understand  even  as  I  do,  so  that  their  understanding 
and  desire  may  entirely  agree  with  my  own.  In  order 
to  bring  this  about  it  is  necessary  to  understand  as 
much  of  nature  as  will  enable  us  to  attain  to  the 
aforesaid  character,  and  also  to  form  a  social  order 
such  as  is  most  conducive  to  the  attainment  of  this  char- 
acter by  the  greatest  number  with  the  least  difiiculty 
or  danger  "  (De  Intell.  Emend.,  Elwes'  trans.,  pp.  6,  7). 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  151 

It  is  for  this  end,  of  the  formation  of  character,  that 
Spinoza  sought  for  a  means  of  improving  the  under- 
standing and  purifying  it,  so  that  it  may  apprehend 
things  without  error  and  in  the  best  possible  way. 
It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  looking  at  all  his  works 
from  first  to  last,  that  he  never  lost  sight  of  this  prac- 
tical, ethical  end — to  form  man  to  a  perfect  character.)^ 
All  our  actions  and  thoughts  must  be  directed  to  this 
one  end.  As  men  must  guide  their  life,  it  is  necessary 
to  lay  down  some  rules  in  a  preliminary  way,  antici- 
pative  of  experience,  and  to  take  these  as  provisionally  \ 
good.  These  he  sets  forth,  and  the  sum  of  them  is, 
that  we  should  speak  so  as  to  be  understood  by  the 
common  people,  and  comply  with  every  general  custom 
that  does  not  hinder  the  attainment  of  our  purpose; 
that  we  should  indulge  in  pleasure  so  far  as  that  is 
necessary  for  the  preservation  of  health ;  that  we 
should  obtain  only  enough  money  as  is  necessary  for 
the  preservation  of  life  and  maintenance  of  health,  and 
to  follow  such  customs  as  are  consistent  with  our 
purpose. 

These  provisional  rules  are  to  enable  us  to  live  while 
we  are  engaged  in  the  task  of  amending  the  under- 
standing and  making  it  fit  for  its  work.  That  work 
is,  that  we  should  know  ourselves,  and  the  world,  in 
order  that  we  may  attain  a  perfect  human  character. 
The  first  step  is  to  clear  our  minds  from  error.  Passing 
by  all  our  other  needs,  the  great  need  is  to  fit  us  to 
understand  things  that  we  may  attain  to  the  supreme 
good.  There  are  four  ways  of  arriving  at  exact  know- 
ledge :  (1)  By  hearsay  or  authority ;  (2)  by  mere  ex- 
perience ;  (3)  by  reasoning  "  when  the  essence  of  one 
thing   is   inferred  from   another   thing,  but  not  ade- 


152         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

quately  " ;  and,  (4)  by  complete  perception  when  a  thing 
is  perceived  only  through  its  essence.  Having  illus- 
trated these  different  kinds  of  perceptions,  he  shows  that 
the  fourth  kind  of  perception  alone  is  adequate,  because 
it  alone  can  give  us  the  whole  nature  of  the  thing  per- 
ceived without  danger  or  error.  The  method  whereby 
we  gain  knowledge  of  the  things  we  need  to  know, 
does  not  consist  in  assuming  that  we  need  a  method 
to  test  the  first  method,  and  a  third  to  supplement  the 
second,  and  so  on.  In  such  a  way  we  should  never 
arrive  at  knowledge.  It  is  with  knowledge  as  it 
is  with  the  making  of  tools :  less  perfect  tools  help 
to  the  making  of  the  more  perfect ;  so  it  is  with  the 
understanding.  The  mind,  exercising  its  strength,  pro- 
cures intellectual  instruments  for  its  work,  till  it  attains 
to  wisdom. 

The  instruments  with  which  we  are  endowed,  and 
by  the  use  of  which  more  perfect  instruments  are 
fashioned,  are  true  ideas.  Tnia^  ideas  are  self-evident. 
The  method  is  not  concerned  with  the  origin  of  our 
ideas,  or  of  how  we  come  to  possess  them.  The  mind 
can  think,  and  think  truly.  Method  is  the  description 
of  the  way  in  which  we  apprehend  in  true  thinking. 
We  think  truly  when  we  apprehend  things  through 
their  essential  nature  or  through  their  proximate  cause. 
After_an  exposition  of  the  idea  and  its  ideatum  he 
^concludes  that  the  method  is  nothing  else  than  reflec- _ 
Jive^knowIedgeTor  the  idea  of  an  idea,  that  there  casL 
be  no  methodT" unless  an  idea  exists  previously.  A 
method  is  good  which  shows  how  the  mind  should  be 
directed  according  to  the  standard  of  the  given  true 
idea.  He  further  assumes  that  the  relation  between 
two  ideas  are  the  same  as  the  relation  between  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  153 

realities  corresponding  to  these  ideas,  and  the  reflective 
knowledge  will  have  a  value  corresponding  to  the 
realities  with  which  the  ideas  deal.  *  Thus  that  method 
will  be  most  perfect  which  aifords  the  standard  of  the 
most  perfect  being  by  which  we  may  direct  our  mind. 
As  we  acquire  new  ideas  we  acquire  fresh  instruments 
by  which  we  may  make  further  progress.  Further,  the 
mind  apprehends  itself  better  in  proportion  to  the 
number  of  natural  objects  which  it  perfectly  under- 
stands. The  greater  the  number  of  objects  which  the 
mind  apprehends  and  comprehends,  the  more  perfect 
win  the  mind  become;  and  the  mind  and  the  method 
of  its  improvement  will  become  absolutely  perfect 
when  it  attains  to  the  knowledge  of  the  perfect  being."^ 
The  more  the  mind  knows,  the  better  does  it  under- 
stand its  own  strength  and  the  order  of  nature ;  as  it 
increases  in  self-knowledge  it  can  direct  itself  more 
easily,  can  lay  down  rules  for  its  guidance,  and  by 
increased  knowledge  of  nature  it  can  more  easily 
avoid  what  is  useless. 

Spinoza  postulates  as  the  beginning  of  the  appli- 
cation of  his  method  the  truth  of  the  fundamental 
idea.  We  cannot  start  unless  with  an  idea  which  is 
itself  true  and  the  guarantee  of  its  own  truth.  The 
test  of  truth  is  in  the  very  act  of  thinking,  for  to 
think  truly  is  to  have  in  idea  the  real  nature  of  the 
object  of  thought.  He  assumes  that  the  true  idea  is  in^I 
the  same  case  as  its  correlate  in  the  world  of  realitv^, 
and  from  this  it  follows  that,  in  order  to  reproduce  in 
every  respect  the  faithful  image  of  nature,  our  minds 
must  deduce  it  from  the  idea  which  represents  the 
origin  and  source  of  the  whole  of  nature.  Spinoza 
asks,   at   this    stage,  why   should  we   prove   this   by 


154         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

reasoning,  seeing  that  it  ought  to  be  self-evident  that 
we  should  direct  our  mind  according  to  the  standard 
of  the  true  given  idea?  The  objection  to  which  he 
replies  is,  that  we  need  to  prove  that  our  starting- 
point  is  a  true  idea ;  that  proof  would  need  a  further 
proof,  and  so  on.  To  which  he  replies,  that  if  a  man 
had  acquired  new  ideas  in  the  proper  order,  according 
to  the  standard  of  the  original  true  idea,  he  would 
never  have  doubted  of  the  truth  of  his  knowledge,  for 
truth  would  have  made  itself  manifest,  and  all  things 
would  have  flowed,  as  it  were,  spontaneously  towards 
him.  But  this  rarely  happens,  and  he  has  been  forced 
to  arrange  matters  so  that  he  may  accomplish  by 
reflection  and  reasoning  what  needed  to  be  done. 
HPurther,  for  establishing  the  truth  and  valid  reasoning, 
no  other  means  are  needed  than  truth  and  valid  reason- 
ing. Moreover,  this  needs  keen  and  accurate  discern- 
ment, and  few  men  are  so  qualified.  There  are  other 
obstacles,  but,  after  all,  we  must  start  somewhere,  and 
if  any  doubt  of  the  primary  truth  and  the  deductions 
based  on  it,  "  he  must  either  be  arguing  in  bad  faith, 
or  there  are  men  who  are  in  complete  mental  blind- 
ness." 

Leaving  the  further  description  of  such  sceptics,  we 
find  that  Spinoza  resumes  thus.  We  have  defined  the 
end  to  which  we  desire  to  direct  our  thoughts;  we 
have  determined  the  mode  of  perception  best  adapted 
to  aid  us  in  attaining  our  ends ;  we  have  discovered  the 
way  which  our  thoughts  should  take  in  order  to  make 
a  good  beginning,  to  wit,  that  we  should  use  every  true 
idea  as  a  standard  in  pursuing  our  inquiries  according 
to  fixed  rules.  The  right  method  should  provide  a  way 
of   distinguishing  true   ideas  from   other  perceptions, 


I 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  155 

should  provide  rules  for  perceiving  unknown  things 
according  to  the  standard  of  the  true  idea,  and  should 
o^ive  us  an  order  which  would  enable  us  to  avoid 
useless  labour.  The  method  would  be  perfect  when 
we  attain  by  it  the  knowledge  of  the  absolutely  per- 
fect Being. 

How  to  distinguish  true  ideas  from  all  other  is  the 
next   step.     Every   perception   is   a  thing,  or   of   the 
"  essence  "  of  a  thing.      "  Fiction  "  is  concerned  with 
things  possible,  not  with  things  necessary  or  impossible. 
A  thing  is  impossible  when  its  existence  would  imply    y 
a  contradiction,  necessary  when  its  non-existence  would  ^ 
imply  a  contradiction,  ^rossible  when  its .  existence  or 
non-existence  could  imply  no  contradiction.    No  fiction-^^^^"*^ 
can  contain  eternal  truths.     I  cannot  feign  that  I  do 
not  exist  when  1  know  that  I  do   exist.     Fiction  is 
concerned  only  with  the  possible;   it  has  no  place  in 
dealing  with  truths  that  carry  their  evidence  in  their 
very  nature. 

At  this  stage  Spinoza  makes  it  clear  that  his  use  of 
the  word  "  idea "  marks  its  complete  separation  from 
mere  general  conceptions  or  abstractions.  One  cannot 
conceive  the  existence  of  Adam  by  means  of  existence 
in  general, — "  it  would  be  the  same  as  if,  in  order  to  con- 
ceive his  existence,  we  went  back  to  the  nature  of  being 
so  as  to  define  Adam  as  a  being."  The  more  existence  is  "^ 
conceived  generally,  the  more  is  it  conceived  confusedly. 
The  more  it  is  understood  particularly,  the  more  it  is 
understood  clearly.  Spinoza  aimed  at  the  conception  of 
concrete  being,  and  endeavoured,  not  always  success- 
fully, to  avoid  abstractions.  Passing  to  the  considera- 
tion of  the  use  of  hypotheses,  he  lays  down  the  position 
that  he  can  feign  as  long  as  he  does  not  perceive  any 


156         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 


knpossibility  or  necessity.  He  knows  that  the  earth  is 
'i-ound,  but  nothing  prevents  him  from  telling  people 
that  it  is  a  hemisphere,  or  that  it  is  like  a  half  apple 
carved  in  relief  on  a  dish.  But  we  are  unable  to  feign 
that  we  are  not  thinking  when  we  are  thinking,  we 
^^eiannot  think  of  the  soul  as  a  square.  Still,  there  is  a 
legitimate  use  of  hypotheses.  We  may  use  them  as 
long  as  we  have  a  clear  and  distinct  perception  of  what 
is  involved.  He  contends,  however,  that  a  fictitious 
idea  is  necessarily  confused,  and  as  all  confusion  arises 
from  the  fact  that  the  mind  has  only  partial  know- 
/ledge,  it  follows  that  if  the  idea  of  something  be  very 
(  clear  and  distinct  it  must  be  simple.  We  may  have 
clear  ideas  of  a  simple  thing,  we  may  also  break  up  a 
complex  into  component  parts,  and  so  cause  confusion 
to  disappear.  But  fiction  cannot  be  simple.  In  fact, 
Spinoza  agrees  with  Mrs.  Carlyle,  "  that  the  mixing  up 
of  things  is  the  great  Bad."  Error  is  confusion,  truth 
is  self -consistent,  simple  and  one-fold.  Falsity  consists 
in  affirming  of  a  thing  what  is  not  contained  in  the 
conception  of  the  thing.  On  the  other  hand,  simple 
ideas  cannot  be  other  than  true. 

The  discussion  of  the  nature  of  the  false  idea  is 
followed  by  an  investigation  of  the  doubtful  idea,  and 
an  inquiry  into  the  sources  of  confusion,  among  which 
■"  may  be  mentioned  the  use  of  the  imagination.  He 
distinguishes  between  the  imagination  and  the  intellect. 
"  We  think  that  what  we  imagine  we  understand,  and 
what  we  more  readily  imagine  is  clearer  to  us." 
Thus  we  put  first  what  should  be  last,  the  true  order 
of  progress  is  reversed,  and  no  legitimate  conclusion 
is  drawn. 

Passing  to  the  second  part  of  the  method,  he  sets 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  157 

before  us  the  object  aimed  at.  Having  shown  that  the 
possession  of  clear  ideas  is  the  indispensable  conditjou^^ 
of  progressive  knowledge,  the  inquiry  necessarily  fol- 
lows as  to  the  acquisition  of  clear  and  distinct  ideas, 
ideas  which  are  the  product  of  pure  intellect  and  not  of 
chance  physical  notions.  His  aim  is  to  reduce  all  ideas 
to  unity,  and  so  associate  and  arrange  them  in  the  mind 
that  they  will  reflect  the  order  of  nature  and  the 
reality  of  nature,  both  as  a  whole  and  as  parts.  For 
this  end  everything  should  be  conceived,  either  through 
its  essence  or  through  its  proximate  cause.  A  self*-^ 
existent  thing  is  conceived  through  its  essence  only ;  a 
dependent  existence  must  be  understood   through  its 

cause.     Thus  we  require  to  be  careful  not  to  confound 

that  which  is  only  in  the  understanding  with  what  is 
in  the  thing  itself.  We  need  either  some  particular 
affirmative  essence  or  a  true  and  leg^itimate  definition. 
A  perfect  definition  must  explain  the  inmost  essence  of 
a  thing.  That  is,  the  definition  must  comprehend  the 
proximate  cause,  and  should  be  such  that  all  the  pro- 
perties of  that  thing,  in  so  far  as  it  is  considered  by  itself 
and  not  in  conjunction  with  other  things,  can  be  deduced 
from  it.  As  to  the  definition  of  an  uncreated  thing, 
Spinoza  lays  down  these  four  rules: — "(1)  The  exclu- 
sion of  the  idea  of  cause — that  is,  the  thing  must  not 
need  explanation  by  anything  outside  itself.  (2)  When 
the  definition  of  a  thing  has  been  given  there  must  be 
no  room  for  doubt  as  to  whether  the  thing  exists  or 
not.  (3)  It  must  contain,  as  far  as  the  mind  is  con- 
cerned, no  substantives  that  could  be  put  into  an  adjec- 
tival form;  in  other  words,  the  object  defined  must  not 
be  explained  through  abstraction.  (4)  Lastly,  though 
this  is  not  absolutely  necessary,  it  should  be  possible  to 


158         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

deduce  from  the  definition  all  the  properties  of  the 
thing  defined."  Note  should  be  taken  of  the  first  and 
third  of  these  rules,  as  the  first  will  enable  us  to  under- 
stand what  Spinoza  means  by  the  phrase  causa  sui, 
used  in  the  Ethics,  and  the  third  is  a  testimony  to 
Spinoza's  thorough-going  nominalism,  and  a  testimony 
to  his  belief  that  he  was  not  dealing  with  abstractions, 
but  with  the  properties  of  real  concrete  being. 

He  has  the  conviction — it  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all 
his  procedure — that  when  the  mind  devotes  itself  to  any 
thought,  so  as  to  examine  it  and  to  deduce  from  it  all 
the  legitimate  conclusions  possible,  any  falsehood  that 
lurks  in  the  thought  will  be  detected ;  if  the  thought 
be  true,  the  mind  will  readily  proceed  without  inter- 
ruption to  deduce  truths  from  it.  But  the  foundation 
must  be  sure.  And  therefore  it  can  be  nothing  else 
than  the  knowledge  of  that  which  constitutes  the 
reality  of  truth,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  understand- 
ing, its  properties  and  powers.  When  we  have  ac- 
quired this  we  shall  have  a  foundation  from  which  we 
can  deduce  our  thoughts  and  a  path  whereby  the  intel- 
ect,  according  to  its  capacity,  may  attain  the  know- 
ledge of  eternal  things.  Finally,  Spinoza  sets  himself 
to  inquire  into  the  properties  of  the  understanding. 
What  is  given  is  simply  an  enumeration  of  these 
properties,  and  with  this  enumeration  the  treatise  ab- 
ruptly closes.  They  are  of  unequal  value,  yet  all  of  them 
are  suggestive.  "  (1)  The  intellect  involves  certainty,  it 
knows  that  a  thing  exists  in  reality  (it  is  better  in  Latin) : 
Quod  sciat  res  ita  esse  formaliter,  ut  in  ipso  objective 
continentur."  (2)  It  perceives  certain  things,  or  forms 
some  ideas  absolutely,  and  some  from  others.  (3)  The 
ideas   which   the  understanding  forms  absolutely  ex- 


4 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  159 

press  infinity,  determinate  ideas  are  derived  from  other 
ideas.  (4)  The  understanding  forms  positive  ideas  be- 
fore negative  ideas.  (5)  Res  non  tam  sub  duratione, 
quam  sub  quadam  specie  seternitatis,  et  numero  infinito ; 
vel  potius,  ad  res  percipiendas,  nee  ad  numerum,  nee 
ad  durationem  attendit:  cum  autem  res  imaginatur, 
eos  sub  certo  numero,  determinato  duratione,  et  quan- 
titate  percipit "  (Van  Vloten,  vol.  i.  pp.  35,  36). 

It  may  be  conceded  that  Spinoza,  in  the  unfinished 

work  on  method,  was  in  search  of  those  principles  and ■ 

presuppositions  on  which  our  knowledge  rests.  It  is^ 
an  attempt  to  interpret  experience.  He  recognises 
that  to  content  ourselves  with  the  given,  as  it  is  given 
in  time  and  place,  and  to  accept  the  mere  perception  of 
these  presentations  as  final,  is  not  to  have  true  know- 
ledge, or  adequately  to  interpret  experience.  This  is 
a  mere  experientia  vaga,  as  Spinoza  calls  it.  Given 
things  in  mere  time  and  place  are  not  understood  till 
they  are  seen  as  there,  through  the  operation  of  a.^ 
general  law,  and  as  an  illustration  of  an  order  of  things 
of  which  they  are  the  particular  expression.  There 
is  a  definite  inner  connection  in  the  things  which  are 
given,  and  the  explanation  of  them  is  found  in  their 
connectedness.  A  beginning  is  made  with  the  given^' 
so  Spinoza  holds,  for  he  remarks  that  we  should  always 
deduce  our  concepts  from  real  things  by  following  the 
sequence  of  causes  as  far  as  we  can.  A  statement  of 
matters  of  fact,  and  a  statement  of  the  principles  and 
conceptions  involved  in  the  ongoing  of  matters  of  fact — 
this  is  the  teaching  of  Spinoza.  On  the  physical  side 
there  are  the  laws  of  motion,  on  the  mental  side  there -^ 
are  the  laws  by  which  ideas  are  bound  together,  and 
in  both  cases  there  is  the  idea  of  conformity  to  law. 


i6o         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND  U 

and  it  is  the  order  in  the  particular  facts  and  the  law 
which  regulates  their  happening  that  makes  them  in- 
telligible. Law  and  order  are  the  constant  and  eternal 
things  on  which  mutable  and  transient  things  so  de- 
pend, that  they  can  neither  exist  nor  be  understood 
without  them. 

It  is  hopeless  to  try  to  understand  the  endless  series 
of  phenomena,  they  go  on  from  number  to  number  in 
^^an  eternal  regress ;  but  true  knowledge  may  be  had,  for 
it  depends  not  on  the  endless  series,  but  on  the  law 
which  unites  the  series  and  makes  it  one.  The  series 
of  phenomena  are  one  thing,  and  the  law  of  their 
^causation  is  another,  and  it  is  on  the  latter  that  know- 
ledge is  based.  He  distinguishes  in  like  manner  between 
general  laws,  which  are  to  him  laws  of  real  things,  as 
real  as  the  things,  and  mere  abstractions,  abstracta  et 
universalia.  The  former  are  eiitia  realia,  the  latter 
are  only  entia  rationis.  The  former  are  objectively 
valid,  the  latter  have  validity  only  so  far  as  it  is  a 
mental  idea ;  it  has  no  reference  to  reality.  Truth  and 
validity  as  applied  to  knowledge  depend  on  the  clear- 
ness and  distinctness  arising  from  perfect  consistency. 
^-£rror  is  possible  only  when  the  mind  takes  the  part 
for  the  whole,  when  it  attributes  absolute  worth  to 
what  is  isolated  and  limited.  Error  will  disappear  as 
we  move  away  from  incorrect  presuppositions  and  work 
lour  way  onward  with  strict  logical  consistency.  "  Veri- 
jtas  norma  sui,  et  falsse  est " — Truth  is  the  measure  of 
'all  things. 

What  guarantee  have  we  that  logical  consistency 
shall  give  us  truth  and  validity.  Spinoza  simply 
assumes  that  ideas  represent  reality,  that  the  order 
and   connection  of   ideas   are   the   same  as  the  order 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  i(5i 

and  connection  of  things;  we  shall  see  this  more 
completely  when  we  read  the  Ethics,  and  we  shall 
see  the  reason  why  Spinoza  held  that  they  were  so. 
But  the  problem  of  knowledge  as  it  burdens  and 
perplexes  philosophy  to-day  was  not  raised  by 
Spinoza,  though  his  statement  really  gave  rise  to  it 
in  the  mind  of  others.  The  ultimate  question  of 
philosophy,  in  its  epistemological  aspect,  is  just  the 
connection  between  the  order  and  connection  of  our 
ideas  and  the  order  and  connection  of  things.  By 
what  warrant  do  we  assume  that  existence  will  follow 
the  laws  which  are  valid  for  the  relations  of  our 
thoughts.  Hume  expressed  the  problem  in  his  char- 
acteristic way,  and  his  clarifying  criticism  has  set 
the  problem  to  philosophy  to-day.  "  In  short,"  Hume 
says,  "  there  are  two  principles,  which  I  cannot  render 
consistent;  nor  is  it  in  my  power  to  renounce  either 
of  them,  namely,  that  all  our  distinct  perceptions 
are  distinct  existences,  and  that  the  mind  never  per- 
ceives any  real  connection  among  distinct  existences. 
Did  our  perceptions  either  inhere  in  something 
simple  and  individual,  or  did  the  mind  perceive 
some  real  connection  among  them,  there  would 
be  no  difficulty  "  (Hume's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  559,  Green 
and  Grosse's  ed.).  This  aspect  of  the  problem  never 
came  before  the  thought  of  Spinoza.  To  him  it 
appeared  axiomatic  that  the  presuppositions  of  our 
reason  were  also  the  presupposition  of  things ; 
that  our  fixed  and  necessary  ideas  had  eternal^ 
realities  correspondent  to  them;  that  the  objective 
world  order  corresponded  to  the  order  of  our  purified 
and  rectified  thinking.  There  are  many  forms  of 
expressing  this  correspondence.  It  may  be  expressed 
II 


1 62         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

^hus:  that  the  necessary  truths  of  reason  are  true 
alike  of   thought   and  things,  or  one  might  say  that 

-^janiformity  of  experience  has  generated  necessity  of 
thought,  just  as  we  regard  mind  as  formative  of  things 
or  things  as  generative  of  thought.  It  is  a  problem 
whether  we  look  at  it  as  the  problem  of  perception 
in  the  modern  sense  of  that  word,  or  as  the  problem 
of  thought ;  and  the  various  solutions  of  the  problem 
are  descriptive  of  the  various  schools  of  thought  in  the 
past  and  the  present. 

Spinoza  did  not  reflect  on  the  problem;  indeed,  it 
was  not  before  his  mind  as  a  problem.  He  assumed 
that   our   thoughts   corresponded   to  things,  and  that 

v.a^  necessity  of  thought  represented  a  necessity  of 
things ;  further,  that  the  relations  which  hold  between 
our  thoughts  hold  between  the  objects  of  our  thoughts. 
Why  these  should  be  so  is  not  explained.  It  had 
led  to  Occasionalism,  to  the  seeing  of  all  things  in 
God,  and  to  many  other  forms  of  solution ;  but  Spinoza 
calmly  tells  us  that  our  first  thought,  from  which  all 
our  thoughts  are  derived,  corresponds  with  the  first 
thing  from  which  all  other  things  are  derived.  The 
connection  between  the  first  thing  and  all  other  things 
is  as  real  as  the  things  themselves,  so  also  with 
thoughts.  The  parallelism  continues  all  along  the 
line  of  things,  and  is  complete,  but  it  is  assumed  all 
the  time  that  thought  has  wedded  fact.     Will  thought 

•T^lations  hold  among  matters  of  fact  ?  Logical  rela- 
tions hold  in  thought,  how  shall  we  extend  them  to 
\;  real  world  ?  Thought  relations  are  true  and  valid 
as  thought,  but  wiH  they  hold  with  regard  to  the 
particulars,  or  enable  us  to  control  phenomena  and 
turn  them  to  our  uses  ?     What  is  the  relation  between 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  163 

thought  and  knowledge  ?  The  difficulty  in  question 
seems  to  have  been  present  to  the  mind  of  Spinoza 
when  he  had  before  him  the  conception  of  the  possible. 
The  possible  involves  no  contradiction.  Just  as  HumeX- 
says :  "  The  contrary  of  every  matter  of  fact  is  still 
possible;  because  it  can  never  imply  a  contradiction, 
and  is  conceived  by  the  mind  with  the  same  facility 
and  distinctness  as  if  ever  so  conformable  to  reality. 
That  the  sun  will  not  rise  to-morrow  is  no  less  in-  - 
telligible  a  proposition,  and  implies  no  more  contra- 
diction than  the  affirmative,  that  it  will  rise.  We 
should  in  vain,  therefore,  attempt  to  demonstrate 
its  falsehood"  (Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  p.  23,  Green 
and  Grosse). 

The   category  of   the  possible,  formally   recognised 
by  Spinoza,  had  really  no  influence  on  his  thought.    In 
the  long  run  he  eliminates  it  by  the  identification  of 
the  possible   and   the  real,   as   we  shall  see.     And  in 
the   meantime    he   regarded   the   possible   as   subject^ — 
to   causation,   and   causation   is    for   him   the   funda^ — ^ 
mental  concept  of  his   philosophy.     Substantiality   is 
really  causality,  and  substance  is  conceived  as  active.— 
He  accepts  the  notions  of  substantiality  and  causality 
as   self-evident,   ultimate,  and   as   needing  no  further 
analysis.      Again,   he   takes   for  granted   conceptions 
the  analysis  of  which  has  been   the   problem  of  suc- 
cessive generations  of  thinkers.     He  regards  the  law^^ 
of  causation  as  the  source  of  our  knowledge  of  real 
existence;    while     in    reality     his     identification    of 
causality   with    power   makes   the   whole    conception'^ 
teleological  and  practical.     Of  this  more  in  the  sequel. 

Causality  being  taken  by  Spinoza  as  real  power,  and 
particular  things  being  taken  as  dependent  on  causation" 


1 64         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

for  their  existence  and  their  particularity,  he  is  able  to  f 
eliminate  the  conception  of  the  possible.  For,  after 
all,  causation  is  of  the  same  kind  as  the  necessity  by 
which  we  deduce  conclusions  from  their  premises. 
Ground  and  consequence,  or  the  logical  connection 
between  premises  and  conclusion,  are  not  temporal 
relations;  they  are  eternal,  constant,  and  permanent. 

^"^us  he  construes,  or  endeavours  to  construe,  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect  as  something  which 
exists  out  of  time ;  and  particular  phenomena,  regarded 
its  the  outcome  of  causation,  are  set  in  their  fit  place 
eternally.  The  temporal  relation  has  no  place  in 
real  knowledge.  Reasonable  knowledge  takes  place 
when  temporal  relations  are  overcome,  and  we  look 
at  things  and  their  relations  under  some  form  of 
eternity. 

It  follows  that  if  we  have  due  knowledge  of  the  cause, 
the  knowledge  of  the  effect  duly  follows.  Cause  and 
effect  are  so  related  to  one  another,  that  when  the 
relation  is  fully  unfolded  the  difference  between  the 
two  falls  into  the  background,  and  the  effect  is  simply 
the  unfolding  of  the  nature  of  the  cause. 

^^  Reasonable  knowledge  leads  inevitably  to  the  dis- 
covery of  the  eternal  and  the  necessary  in  the  world 
of  things.  This  is  the  work  of  reason,  and  reason 
presupposes  that  eternal  and  necessary  principles  are 
to  be  found  in  the  world  of  things.  Yet  this  is  not, 
according  to  Spinoza,  the  highest  form  of  knowledge. 
In  rational  knowledge  the  antithesis  between  general 
laws  and  particular  things  is  not  overcome,  and  the 
matters  of  fact  present  some  resistance  to  the  laws 
of  thought,  and  knowledge  is  not  complete.  Spinoza 
longs   for  a  kind  of  knowledge   by  means  of  which 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  165 

particulars  will  take  their  place  in  the  system  oi.^-^ 
things,  completely  interpenetrated  with  the  constant  and 
eternal  laws  of  the  universal  order,  and  that  each  thing 
in  its  individual  setting  will  give  the  universal  order, 
and  the  universal  order  will  give  the  particular  thing. 
This  kind  of  knowledge  is  intuitive,  for  in  it  there 
is  no  before  or  after,  no  particular  or  universal,  no 
parts  nor  whole;  for  these  distinctions  are  relevant 
only  to  imperfect  knowledge,  striving  to  reach  its 
objects  by  means  of  comparison  and  inference,  which 
in  their  very  nature  involve  the  possibility  of  mistake. 
It  is  obvious  that  such  knowledge  is  possible  only 
to  an  intelligence  which  is  absolute,  unlimited,  at 
the  centre  of  things,  and  which  has  all  possibility 
present  to  it  as  a  real  system.  Such  knowledge  may 
be  possible,  but  if  so  it  has  already  overcome  the 
antithesis  of  mind  and  matter,  subject  and  object, 
and  also  the  antithesis  of  time  and  eternity;  and 
other  distinctions  with  which  finite  minds  work  have 
ceased  to  have  significance,  and  it  is  not  possible  for 
us  to  describe  its  nature  and  action.  For  Spinoza:r^ 
it  appeared  to  be  the  crown  of  all  knowledge;  but 
for  him  it  was  also  the  fact  that  intuitive  knowledge 
was  real,  because  such  knowledge  was  only  the  other 
side  of  being,  the  thought  that  reflected  the  actualitiea.- 
of  being  in  its  wholeness  as  a  system  of  all  possible 
existence.  All  the  relations  of  being  to  itself,  and  of 
all  attributes  of  being  to  substance,  had  their  corres- 
pondent relationships  set  forth  in  the  world  of  thought, 
and  the  res  cogitans  kept  pace  with  the  world  of 
objects.  Here  there  is  no  before  and  after ;  really,  there 
is  no  question  of  the  relation  of  res  cogitans  to  the 
res  extensa,  of  the  natura  naturans  to  the  natura 


1 66  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

naturata:  for  the  cogitans  has  knowledge  of  all  the 
possibilities  of  things,  and  sees  them  as  actual.  Nor 
is  there  any  question  of  cause  and  effect  either  in 
the  world  of  thought  or  of  things,  still  less  is  there 
any  question  of  influence  of  the  one  on  the  other.  In 
this  state  of  perfect  intuitive  knowledge  all  is  known 
as  it  is,  and  is  as  it  is  known. 

The  tractate  on  the  theory  of  knowledge  w^as  never 
completed  by  Spinoza.  It  is  a  suggestive  treatise,  so 
far  as  it  is  wrought  out,  and  contains  many  things 
worthy  of  admiration.  It  shows  that  he  had  reflected 
deeply  on  the  procedure  of  the  mind  in  its  search  for 
5^  knowledge,  and  it  shows  that  he  had  a  vivid  appre- 
hension of  the  hindrances  which  dogged  its  steps 
on  its  advance  towards  truth.  He  reflected  on  the 
assumptions  made  by  the  mind  in  its  endeavour  to 
understand  existence.  He  reduced  these  assumptions 
to  the  fewest  possible  number,  the  fewest  possible 
for  him ;  but  they  remained  unsifted,  uncriticised  by 
him,  and  were  as  dogmatically  assumed  by  him  as 
they  had  been  by  former  thinkers.  He  treats  them 
as  realities,  and  he  bases  his  system  on  them.  Of 
them  we  shall  speak  presently,  but  it  will  be  well 
for  us  to  look  for  a  little  at  his  first  systematic  work, 
his  Exposition  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy,  with  its 
significant  appendix,  Cogitatio  Metaphysica.  We  might 
look  also,  had  we  time,  at  the  Tractatus  Theologico- 
Politicus,  not  so  much  for  its  criticism  of  the  Old 
Testament  or  for  its  religious  worth,  as  for  the  light 
it  casts  on  the  principles  of  his  philosophical  system. 
For  in  it  we  see  the  principles  in  their  practical 
application  to  history  and  to  life,  and  we  can  thus 
understand  them  all  the  more  clearly. 


I 


CHAPTER   IX 

Exposition  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy — A  Synthetic  Exposition 
moj-e  Geometrico — Definitions — Axioms — Propositions — The 
Gogitatio  Metaphijsica — Ways  of  Thinking — The  Four  Kinds 
of  Being — Affections  of  Being — The  Necessary,  the  Im- 
possible, the  Possible,  and  the  Contingent — Freedom  of  the 
Will — Time  and  Eternity — Good  and  Evil — The  Attributes 
of  God — The  Nature  of  Man. 

The  Exposition  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy,  published 
in  1663,  was  prepared  by  Spinoza  for  the  use  of  a  pupil 
living  with  him  while  his  residence  was  at  Rhyns- 
burg.  It  is  based  on  the  second  part  of  Descartes' 
Principia  Philosophies,  with  some  sections  of  the 
third  part.  Spinoza  proceeds  synthetically,  with  all  the 
apparatus  of  geometrical  demonstration,  "inore  geome- 
trico. It  is  interesting  in  itself  and  as  a  step  towards 
the  final  form  which  ruled  the  method  of  Spinoza. 
The  Gogitatio  Metaphysica,  published  as  an  appendix 
to  the  Exposition  of  the  Cartesian  Philosophy,  is  of 
great  significance,  as  by  means  of  it  the  growth  of  the 
system  of  Spinoza,  towards  the  final  form  which  it 
assumed  in  the  Ethics,  can  in  some  measure  be  traced. 
We  are  able,  also,  to. trace  the  points  of  divergence 
from  Descartes,  and  to  appreciate  the  originality  of 
Spinoza. 

Beginning  with  a  description  of  the  Cartesian  doubt, 

167 


1 68         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

and  the  method  arising  therefrom,  namely,  to  lay  aside 
all  prejudices,  to  discover  the  foundations  on  which  the 
superstructure  is  to  be  built,  to  detect  the  causes  of  error, 
and  to  think  all  things  clearly  and  distinctly,  Spinoza 
proceeds  to  the  definitions  and  axioms  by  means  of  which 
the  propositions  are  to  be  demonstrated.  All  operations 
of  will,  intellect,  imagination,  and  of  the  senses  are 
thoughts ;  but  only  those  of  which  we  are  immediately 
conscious,  and  not  those  which  may  be  deduced  from 
these  operations,  are  thoughts.  Idea  is  that  form  of 
thought  by  the  immediate  perception  of  which  we  are 

y conscious  of  that  thought.  The  objective  reality  of  an 
idea  is  the  entity  of  the  thing  represented  by  the  idea, 
so  far  as  it  is  in  the  idea.  "  Omnis  res,  cui  inest  im- 
mediate, ut  in  subjecto,  sive  per  quam  existit  aliquid, 
quod  percipimus,  hoc  est  aliqua  proprietas  sive  qualitas 
sive  attributum,  cujus  realis  in  nobis  est,  vocatur  sub- 

^  stantia  "  (vol.  ii.  p.  389,  Del  V.).  The  substance  in  which 
thought  inheres  is  called  mind,  and  the  substance  which 
is  the  immediate  subject  of  extension  and  of  accidents 
which  presuppose  extension  is  called  body.  The  sub- 
stance which  we  understand  to  be  per  se  supremely 
perfect,  in  which  we  conceive  no  defect  or  limitation 
of  perfection,  is  called  God.  Two  substances  are  to  be 
distinguished  when  it  is  possible  for  either  to  exist 
without  the  other. 

We  can  move  to  the  knowledge  and  certainty  of  the 
unknown  only  by  the  cognition  and  certainty  of 
another  thing  which  is  prior  to  it.  Based  on  these 
definitions  and  axioms  are  certain  propositions,  to  the 

(effect  that  we  cannot  be  absolutely  certain  of  anything 
as  long  as  we  are  ignorant  of  our  own  existence.  "  I  Am  " 
must  be  known  by  itself  (per  se) :  That  I  Am,  so  far  as 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  169 

I  am  a  being  existing  in  a  body  (Quatenus  res  constans 
corpore)  is  not  a  primary  truth,  nor  one  that  can  be 
known  by  itself.  "  I  am  "  cannot  be  known  as  a  primary 
truth,  except  in  so  far  as  I  think.  So  far  Spinoza 
is  expounding  Cartesianism  pure  and  simple,  and  he 
further  tells  us,  without  departing  from  the  thought  of 
his  predecessor,  that  there  are  various  grades  of  reality, 
for  substance  has  more  reality  than  accident  or  mo 
that  infinite  substance  has  more  reality  than  finite ;  and 
so  the  idea  of  substance  has  more  reality  than  the  ideas^ 
of  accident,  and  the  idea  of  infinite  substance  has  more- 
reality  than  that  of  finite  substance.  Passing  over  the 
part  referring  to  the  objective  value  of  ideas,  and  the 
assertion  that  the  cause  of  the  idea  has  the  reality 
of  the  idea,  formaliter  et  eminenter,  we  come  to  the 
significant  part  of  the  exposition,  where  he  diverges 
from  the  teaching  of  Descartes.  Proposition  5  sets— 
forth  that  the  existence  of  God  is  known  from  the  mere 
(sola)  consideration  of  His  nature.  Spinoza  waxes 
eloquent  over  the  greatness  of  this  proposition.  In 
a  scholium  he  says :  "  From  this  proposition  many 
magnificent  things  follow.  Verily,  from  this  alone,  that 
existence  belongs  to  the  nature  of  God ;  or,  that  the 
conception  of  God  involves  the  necessary  existence 
of  God,  as  the  conception  of  a  triangle  that  its  three 
angles  are  equal  to  two  right  angles;  or,  that  His 
existence  not  otherw^ise  than  His  essence,  is  eternal 
truth ;  that  almost  all  the  knowledge  of  the  attributes 
of  God  by  which  we  are  led  to  the  love  of  Him  (the 
highest  blessedness)  depends  on  this  proposition.  It  is 
therefore  greatly  to  be  desired  that  the  human  race 
should  with  us  at  length  embrace  this  truth." 

To  Spinoza  the  idea  of  God,  as  he  expressly  says,  is 


170         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

different  from  the  ideas  of  other  things,  for  God  differs 

ytoto  genere  from  other  things.     A  proposition  stating 

that  the   existence   of   God   can   be   demonstrated    a 

posteriori  from  our  idea  of  Him  leads  to  another  pro- 

/  position.  The  existence  of  God  is  demonstrated  from 
the  fact  that  we  who  have  the  idea  of  God  exist.     Here 

\  we  come  to  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Descartes  had 
fissumed  the  two  axioms  :  (1)  That  whatsoever  can  effect 
what  is  greater  and  more  difficult  can  effect  what  is 
easier  and  less ;  and  (2)  it  is  a  greater  thing  to  create 
or  preserve  substances  than  the  properties  or  attributes 
of  \substance.  Spinoza  says  that  he  does  not  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  these  axioms ;  for  easier  or  more 
difficulty  have  a  meaning  only  in  relation  to  the  cause, 
and  the  language  has  no  meaning  as  applied  to  creation. 

/ind,  further,  to  create  substance  is  to  create  attributes, 
and  to  distinguish  substance  from  attributes  is  possible 
only  in  abstraction,  not  in  reality.  Spinoza  having 
stated  his  objections  to  the  Cartesian  axioms,  sets  forth 
the  following  lemmas :  (1)  That  by  which  anything  is 
more   perfect  in  its  own  nature,  the  greater  and  the 

/^ore  necessary  is  the  existence  it  involves ;  and,  on  the 
contrary,  the  more  a  thing  involves  necessary  existence 
in  its  own  nature,  the  more  perfect  it  is.  (2)  That 
which  has  the  power  of  self-conservation  (se  con- 
Mervandi)  has  necessary  existence  in  its  own  nature. 
We  are  here  in  the  very  heart  of  the  doctrine  of 
Spinoza.  The  supreme  existence  is  furthest  removed 
from  nothingness,  and  from  Avliat  is  accidental  or 
contingent.  He  further  distinguishes  here  between 
necessity  which  is  determined  by  causation,  and  that 
necessity  which  follows  from  the  consideration  of  the 
nature  or  essence  of  a  thing,  neglecting  altogether  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  i;i 

notion  of  its  cause.  What  is  perfection,  then  ?  "  Per  -^ 
perf ectionem,  intelligo  tantum  realitem,  sive  esse ;  ut 
ex  gr.  in  substantia  plus  realitatis  contineri  percipio, 
quam  in  modis  sive  accidentibus ;  ideoque  ipsam  magis 
necessarian!  et  perf  ectionem  existentiam  continere  clare 
intelligo,  quam  accidentia  "  (p.  402). 

That  which  has  the  power  of  self -conservation  has  "'^ 
necessary  existence,  and  has  all  perfections  ;  but  as  man, 
a  thinking  being,  has  many  imperfections  he  has  not 
the  power  of  self-conservation,  he  is  conserved  by 
another.  Passing  on,  he  seeks  to  prove  that  mind  and 
body  are  to  be  distinguished,  that  God  is  the  highest 
intelligence,  that  whatever  of  perfection  is  to  be  found 
in  God  is  from  God,  there  are  no  more  Gods  than  one, 
that  all  things  that  exist  are  conserved  by  the  power 
of  God  alone,  that  God  is  the  Creator  of  all  things,  that 
things  have  no  essence  from  themselves,  which  is  the 
cause  of  the  knowledge  of  God ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
God  is  the  cause  of  things  even  as  regards  their  essence. 
God  is  the  eminently  true,  and  never  deceives.  What- 
ever is  distinctly  and  clearly  perceived  is  true,  and 
error  is  not  something  positive. 

So  far  we  have  traced  the  exposition  of  the  Cartesian 
philosophy.  It  is  a  fair  and  able  exposition,  and  he 
departs  from  the  teaching  of  Descartes  as  little  as 
possible.  But  he  does  depart.  Into  the  second  part 
we  do  not  enter,  for  it  is  mainly  an  exposition  of  the 
Cartesian  physics,  and  gives  us  definitions  of  extension, 
substance,  atom,  the  indefinite,  a  vacuum,  space.  But  all 
these  things  are  wrought  out  with  deeper  significance 
in  the'  Cogitatio  Metaphysica,  to  which  we  now  turn. 

The  full  title  is  Metaphysical  Cogitations  in  which 
the  miore  Difficult  Questions  in  Metaphysics,  general  and 


172         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

special,  are  briefly  treated.  The  questions  mainly  are 
about  being  and  its  affections,  God  and  His  attributes, 
and  the  human  mind.  For  once  we  are  clear  from  the 
geometrical  form  of  exposition,  and  we  see  that  the 
geometrical  form  is  only  a  form  and  not  essential  to 
the  thought  of  Spinoza.  He  souglit  to  live  in  the 
whole,  to  think  the  whole,  and  to  rest  only  in  the 
perfection  which  is  the  whole.  This  is  clearly  the 
foundation  of  all  his  thinking  and  striving. 

It  is  the  more  difficult  questions  that  attract  him. 
He  begins  with  being  and  its  affections,  as  they  are 
commonly  called.  Being  is  all  that  which  we  find, 
when  it  is  clearly  and  distinctly  understood,  to  exist 
necessarily,  or  at  least  to  exist  possibly.  A  chimcera, 
an  ens  fictiim,  and  an  ens  rationis  are  not  entities.  An 
ens  fictuni  has  no  reality ;  of  it  we  can  have  no  clear 
and  distinct  perception,  for  a  man  out  of  his  mere 
will  alone,  and  not  ignorantly  as  in  false  things,  but 
prudently  and  knowingly,  connects  what  he  wishes  to 
connect,  and  disjoins  what  he  wishes  to  disjoin.  An 
ens  rationis  is  only  a  mode  of  thinking  which  enables 
the  intellect  to  retain,  explain,  and  imagine  things 
more  readily.  He  illustrates  at  some  length  the  ways 
of  thinking  by  which  we  retain,  explain,  and  imagine 
things.  Entia  rationis  are  not  ideas  of  things,  and 
they  have  no  ideatum  which  necessarily  or  possibly 
exists.  These  modes  of  thinking  arise  from  the  ideas 
of  things  so  immediately,  that  they  may  easily  be 
confounded  with  them  by  those  who  do  not  most 
accurately  attend.  He  lays  stress  on  the  distinction 
^Hbetween  things  themselves  and  our  modes  of  perceiving. 
And  he  substitutes  the  distinction  of  substance  and 
mode  for  the  distinction  of  ens  reale  and  ens  rationis. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  173 

"Hence  it  is  easy  to  see  how  inept  is  the  division 
between  ens  reale  et  ens  rationis ;  for  they  divide 
ens  into  ens  and  non-ens,  or  into  ens  and  a  mode  of 
thinking "  (p.  462).  There  is  a  being  the  essence  of 
which  involves  existence,  and  there  is  a  being  the 
essence  of  which  does  not  involve  existence. 

Thus  he  takes  the  next  step,  which  is  to  set  forth- 
the  being  of  essence,  the  being  of  existence ;  what  is 
the  being  of  the  idea,  and  of  potency.  What  is  to  be 
understood  regarding  these  four  terms  he  explains  in 
wha.t  he  has  to  say  regarding  the  uncreated  substance, 
or  God.  All  that  is  formally  contained  in  created 
things  is  contained  really  (ewAnenter)  in  God.  Extent 
sion  we  can  clearly  conceive  without  existence,  but  the 
divisibility  of  space  is  an  imperfection,  and  imperfec- 
tion cannot  be  ascribed  to  God.  We  are  therefore 
constrained  to  confess  that  some  attribute  is  present 
in  God  which  contains  all  the  perfections  of  matter  in  - 
a  more  excellent  way.  It  is  apparent  that  Spinoza 
has  not  yet  arrived  at  the  thought  of  God  as  a  res 
extensa,  or  at  the  thought  that  attributes  of  thought 
and  extension  equally  belong  to  him.  In  the  next 
place,  God  understands  Himself  and  all  other  things ; 
that  He  has  all  things  objectively  in  Him.  God  is 
also  the  cause  of  all  things,  and  that  He  works  out  of 
the  absolute  freedom  of  His  will.  "[/J^AjJr^, 

Thus  the  four  kinds  of  being  already  mentioned 
may  be  readily  understood.  The  being  of  essence  is 
nothing  else  than  that  mode  in  which  created  things- 
are  comprehended  in  the  attributes  of  God.  The 
being  of  an  idea  is  so  called  in  so  far  as  all  things 
are  contained  objectively  in  the  idea  of  God.  The- 
being  of  potency  is  so  called  only  in  respect  of  the 


174         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

potency  of  God,  by  which  all  things  not  yet  in  exist- 
ence could  be  created  out  of  the  absolute  freedom  of 
His  will ;  and  the  being  of  existence  is  that  essence  of 
things  beyond  {extra)  God,  and  considered  in  them- 
selves, which  is  attributed  to  things  after  they  have 
been  created  by  God.  In  created  things  these  can  be 
distinguished  ;  but  in  God  is  no  distinction,  for  in  Him 
essence,  existence,  potency,  and  intellect  are  all  one. 

Passing,  in  the  third  chapter,  to  the  affections  of 
being,  he  explains  that  by  affections  he  means  what 
Descart'es  meant  by  attributes.  Of  these  affections  he 
speaks  of  four :  the  necessary,  the  impossible,  the 
posi^ible,  and  the^ contingent.  A  thing  is  necessary  in 
respect  of  its  essence  or  of  its  cause.  In  respect  of 
^^^isi  essence,  God  necessarily  exists,  for  His  essence 
can^ot  be  conceived  without  existence.  A  chimsera,  in 
respect  of  the  implications  of  its  essence,  cannot  exist. 
In  respect  of  cause,  things,  for  example  material  things, 
are  either  impossible  or  necessary, — impossible  because 
they  cannot  exist  without  the  will  of  God,  and  neces- 
sary because  God  has  willed  that  they  exist.     In  fact, 

chimsera  is  only  a  verbal  being ;  created  things 
depend  wholly  on  God,  and  the  necessity  which  affects 
them  is  from  a  cause — from  being,  essence,  or  exist- 
ence ;  and  these  are  not  to  be  distinguished  in  God. 
Possibility  and  contingency  are  not  affections  of  things; 
they  are  due  to  defects  in  our  intelligence.  We  cannot 
say  that  things  might  have  been  contingent,  because 
God  could  have  decreed  otherwise  ;  for  in  eternity  there 
is  no  when,  before,  or  after,  nor  any  affection  of  time ; 
it  follows  that  God  never  existed  before  these  decrees 
in  order  that  He  might  have  decreed  something  else. 

The  next  question  that  attracts  his  attention  is  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  175 

of  the  freedom  of  human  will  in  relation  to  the 
decrees  of  God.  It  is  noteworthy,  because  Spinoza  has 
not  yet  reached  the  ground  which  he  accepts  in  the 
Ethics.  He  calls  the  will  free,  and  yet  he  says  that 
no  man  wishes  to  do,  or  does,  anything  except  what 
God  from  all  eternity  has  decreed  what  that  man  wills 
or  does.  He  leaves  the  antinomy  in  its  naked  sim- 
plicity, as  so  many  have  done  in  the  same  situation. 
How  the  two  can  be  reconciled  he  cannot  say.  "  Quo- 
modo  autem  id  fieri  possit,  servata  humana  libertate, 
captum  nostrum  excedit"  (p.  471).  "For  we  clearly 
and  distinctly  understand  that  we  are  free  in  our 
actions,  and  can  deliberate  about  many  things  merely 
because  we  chose  to  do  so ;  if  we  attend  also  to  the 
nature  of  God,  as  we  have  already  shown,  we  clearly 
and  distinctly  understand  that  all  things  depend  on 
Him,  and  that  nothing  exists  unless  it  was  decreed 
from  all  eternity  that  it  should  exist.  But  how  the 
human  will  should  be  generated  (procreatur)  each 
moment  in  such  a  way  as  to  remain  free,  of  this  we  are 
ignorant"  (p.  471). 

We  shall  see  afterwards  how  Spinoza  overcame  the 
difficulty,  mainly  by  the  suppression  of  one  side  of  it. 
Meanwhile  let  us  follow  his  meditations.  Duration 
and  time  form  the  subject  of  the  next  chapter.  Out 
of  the  distinction  between  being  whose  essence  involves 
existence,  and  being  whose  essence  involves  only  possible 
existence,  arises  the  distinction  between  eternity  and 
time.  Deferring  a  fuller  treatment  of  eternity,  he  deals 
with  it  here  only  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  is  the  attri- 
bute under  which  we  conceive  the  infinite  existence  of 
God,  as  duration  is  the  attribute  under  which  we  con- 
ceive the  existence  of  created  things,  so  far  as  they 


176         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

persevere  in  their  actuality.  Duration  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  existence  of  anything  save  in 
ythought.  By  as  much  as  you  withdraw  Duration  from 
anything,  by  so  much  you  withdraw  existence  from  it. 
To  determine  Duration  we  compare  it  with  the  duration 
of  those  things  which  have  a  determined  motion,  which 
we  call  Time.  Thus  Time  is  not  an  affection  of  things ; 
it  is  only  a  mere  mode  of  thinking,  a  mode  which 
^serves  for  the  explanation  of  duration.  Duration  is  of 
Existence,  not  of  essence.  Spinoza  returns  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  eternity  in  the  next  book;  here  he  pro- 
ceeds to  treat  briefly  of  Opposition,  Order,  Agreement, 
Diversity,  Subject,  Adjunct ;  and  next  takes  up  the  One, 
the  True,  and  the  Good.  He  asks,  What  is  unity  and 
what  is  multitude,  and  in  what  respect  God  may  be 
said  to  be  one  and  in  what  respect  He  may  be  said  to 
be  unique  (uniciis)!  Unity  is  not  something  to  be 
distinguished  from  the  thing  itself ;  it  adds  nothing 
to  the  thing:  it  is  a  mode  of  thought  by  which  we 
distinguish  the  thing  from  other  things  which  are  like 
it,  or  in  some  way  agree  with  it.  Multitude  is  also  a 
mode  of  thought.  We  say  that  God  is  one,  in  so  far  as 
we  separate  Him  from  other  beings ;  in  so  far  as  we 
conceive  that  there  can  be  no  more  Gods  than  one.  He 
is  called  the  Only.  Properly,  however.  He  can  be 
called  neither  One  nor  Unique.  He  finally  dismisses 
the  question  as  a  mere  matter  of  words. 

True  and  false  are  predicates  of  wliat  has  happened  ; 
and  we  say  of  a  narrative,  which  describes  accurately 
what  has  happened,  that  it  is  true.  We  use  the  word 
also  to  describe  the  correspondence  of  an  idea  with 
the  reality.  A  true  idea  describes  the  thing  accurately, 
a  false  idea  inaccurately.     These  are  not  predicates  of 


THE   NEW    PHILOSOPHY  177 

things;  as  such  they  are  improperly  used, or  rhetori- 
cally only. 

Good  and  evil  are  relative  terms ;  they  describe  the 
relation  of  one  thing  to  another  which  conduces  to  the 
acquiring  of  that  which  it  loves,  or  the  contrary. 
Anything  may  be  good  or  bad  in  respect  of  different 
persons.  This  also  is  a  distinction  drawn  by  reason 
which  is  not  a  distinction  of  things.  He  illustrates 
from  the  distinction  between  Motion  and  Force.  Force 
is  nothing  else,  he  says,  than  the  motion  itself.  The 
reason  why  we  distinguish  the  conatus  from  the  thing 
itself  is  because  men  find  in  themselves  a  desire  of 
self -conservation,  and  they  imagine  such  a  desire  exists 
in  everything  else.  Thus  there  is  no  metaphysical 
truth,  unity,  or  good ;  these  are  entia  rationis.  There 
are  many  attributes  which  men  ascribe  to  God — such 
as  Creator,  Judge,  Merciful — which  could  be  potentially 
true  before  the  creation  of  things.  Much  might  be 
said  on  this  conclusion,  which  proceeds  on  the  assump- 
tion that  the  ethical  attributes  of  God  have  a  reference 
only  to  His  relation  to  the  world.  A  deeper  view  of 
God  finds  room  for  ethical  relations  within  the  God- 
head.   But  such  a  discussion  would  lead  us  too  far  afield. 

The  second  part  of  the  Cogitatio  deals  with  the 
attributes  of  God  and  with  the  human  mind.  The 
attributes  dealt  with  are  Eternity,  Unity,  Immen- 
sity, Immutability,  Simplicity,  Life,  Intellect,  Will, 
and  Potency;  there  are  articles  also  on  the  Creation, 
on  the  Concursus  of  God,  and  on  the  Human 
Mind.  He  begins  by  reminding  us  that  there  is  in^ 
rerum  natura  nothing  but  substance  and  modes,  and 
that  therefore  he  will  not  be  expected  to  speak  of 
substantial  forms,  of  reals,  or  of  accidents.    Substance  is 


1/8         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

found  in  two  principal  kinds,  Extension  and  Thought ; 
and  Thought  appears  as  created,  namely,  the  human 
mind,  and  uncreated,  or  God.  Repeating  again  the  de- 
finition of  Substance,  he  proceeds  to  discuss  the  eternity 
of  God.  We  cannot  attribute  duration  to  God;  it  is 
only  an  attribute  of  the  existence,  not  of  the  essence  of 
IJ^hings.  Eternity  belongs  to  God  alone.  Duration  is 
separable  into  parts,  may  be  greater  or  less,  and  there- 
fore we  cannot  attribute  duration  to  God.  Not  only 
in  the  discussion  of  the  attribute  of  eternity,  but  in 
the  discussion  of  other  attributes  as  well,  Spinoza  is 
jealous  of  any  attribution  to  God  of  any  attribute 
which  might  involve  any  imperfection,  becoming,  or 
defect.  Unity  must  be  construed  so  that  it  will  involve 
no  limitation.  Immensity  necessarily  involves  the  idea 
of  quantity  and  limitation,  and  cannot  be  applied  to 
God ;  while  he  believes  in  the  ubiquity  of  God,  yet  he 
cannot  explain  it.  Many  authors,  he  tells  us,  have 
erred  in  various  ways,  for  they  speak  of  God  in  lan- 
guage which  implies  imperfection.  The  eternity  of  God 
is  God  Himself  ;  the  existence  of  God  is  God  Himself ; 
and  so  on,  for  to  separate  the  essence  of  God  from  God 
Himself  is  inconceivable.  Then  he  speaks  of  the  im- 
mutability of  God  in  terms  which  excite  approval  and 
delight.  From  all  change,  all  mutation,  He  is  free. 
The  discussion  is  full  of  interest,  leading  to  a  descrip- 
tion of  what  change  is,  and  what  transformation  is. 
In  God  transformation  has  no  place ;  mutability  comes 
from  the  operation  of  external  causes ;  but  God  cannot 
be  changed  by  another,  nor  even  by  Himself. 

Dealing  with  the  simplicity  of  God,  he  recalls  to 
mind  the  threefold  distinction  of  Descartes,  namely,  that 
things  are  real,  modal,  or  of    reason.     Having  anew 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  179 

described  these,  he  shows  how  composition  arises,  and 
comes  back  to  say  that  God  is  the  most  simple  Being, 
and  that  His  attributes  are  only  distinctions  of  reason. 
Rather,  the  distinctions  between  His  attributes  are 
only  distinctions  of  reason.  It  would  appear  that_,^-- 
Spinoza  holds  that  God  is  whole  in  every  attribute, 
and  that  every  attribute  is  God  Himself  from  the  point 
of  view  of  that  attribute. 

Is  life  to  be  predicated  of  God  ?    It  depends  on  what 
we  understand  life  to  be.     If,  with  the  schoolmen,  we 
divide  spirits  into  three  kinds — vegetative,  sensitive, 
and  intellectual — and  attribute  these  to  plants,  brutes, 
and  men  respectively,  it  follows  that  all  else  is  destitute 
of  life.     Spinoza  makes  short  work  of  the  scholastic 
idea  of  life.     He  briefly  states  that  in  matter  there  is  "7^ 
nothing    save    mechanical    structures    (texturas)    and 
operations.     It  is  to  be  noted,  however,  that  if  life  is 
to  be  attributed  to  corporeal  things,  there  is  nothing 
without  life ;  if  life  be  attributed  only  to  souls  united 
to    bodies,,  it  can  be    attributed    to    man    alone,  and 
perhaps  also  to  animals;  not,  indeed,  to  minds  or  to 
God.     If  the  meaning  of    life  is  to  be  more  widely 
extended,  it    is   to  be    attributed    even    to    corporeal 
things,  to  minds  not  united  with  bodies,  and  to  minds  ^ 
separated  from  the  body.     Life,  according  to  Spinoz^^^^^ 
is  the  power  by  which  a  thing  perseveres  in  its  own 
being,  and,  inasmuch  as  that  power  is  different  from 
the  things  themselves,  they  may  rightly  be    said  to 
have  it.     But  as  the  power  by  which  God  continues ^-^"^ 
in  His  own  being  is  nothing  else  than  His  essence, 
therefore  they  are  right  who  call  God  life.     It  is  to  be  ^ 
observed  that  in  his  definition  of  life  Spinoza  has  lost 
sight  of  any  specific  characteristic  of  life,  and  identifies 


i8o         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

it  with  the  power  by  which  all  things  continue  in  their 
\      being.     The  definition  is  so  far  true,  but  it  is  as  true 
\    of  things  without  life  as  of  things  with  life. 

Next,  he  deals  with  the  intellect  of  God,  and  claims 
for  Him  omniscience,  and  claims  this  on  the  ground 
that  knowledge  is  a  perfection,  and  God  as  the  all- 
perfect  Being  must  possess  complete  knowledge.  He 
lays  down  emphatically  the  proposition  that  the  object 

jof   the  knowledge  of  God   is  not   something  beyond 

God,  but  God  Himself.  From  the  perfection  of  God 
it  follows  that  His  ideas  are  not  terminated  as  ours  are 
by  objects  placed  beyond  God.  It  is  an  error  to  say 
that  there  is  a  matter,  eternal  and  external,  to  God  on 
which  He  works;  and  it  is  equally  an  error  to  say 
that  to  God  there  are  things  impossible,  necessary,  or 
contingent,  for  that  would  be  to  suppose  that  He  is 
ignorant  whether  they  exist  or  not.  It  is  an  error, 
also,  to  suppose  that  He  knows  things  from  circum- 
stances, as  men  do  through  a  long  experience.  God  is 
the  object  of  His  own  knowledge;  those  who  say  that 
the  world  is  the  object  of  the  knowledge  of  God  are 
less  wise  than  those  who  say  that  the  building  raised 
by  some  illustrious  architect  is  the  object  of  his  know- 
ledge. We  are  here  reminded  of  the  self -thinking 
thought  of  Aristotle,  and  of  the  modern  contention  that 
the  object  of  the  revelation  of  God  is  God  Himself. 

In  what  way  does  God  know  sins,  beings  of  reason, 
and  other  similar  things  ?  The  answer  is,  that 
God  necessarily  understands  those  things  of  which 
He  is  the  cause,  because  they  could  not  be  without  the 
divine  concursus.  "  Cum  ergo  mala  et  peccat  in  rebus 
nihil  est,  sed  tantum  in  mente  humana,  res  inter  se 
comparante ;  sequitur,  Deum  ipsa  extra  mentis  humanas 

/ 

/ 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  i8i 

non  cognoscere,"  (p.  489).  Entia  rationis  are  modes  of 
thinking  and  are  understood  by  God,  in  so  far  as  He 
preserves  and  continually  creates  the  human  minds 
of  whose  thinking  these  are  the  modes.  Those 
people  seem  to  err  with  delight,  and  to  think 
absurdly  who  are  of  opinion  that  God  knows  only 
eternal  things  which  are  by  nature  unbegotten  and 
incorruptible,  and  nothing  of  the  world  save  species 
which  are  unbegotten  and  incorruptible.  What  can 
be  more  absurd  than  to  suppose  that  those  particular 
things  which  cannot  exist  for  a  moment  without  the 
concursus  of  God  are  shut  out  from  His  knowledge? 
There  is  only  one  simple  purpose  of  God.  Created 
things  are  various  and  multiform,  but  the  idea  of 
God,  by  which  we  describe  His  omniscience,  is  one 
and  most  simple.  "  Denique  si  ad  analogiam  totius 
Naturae  attendimus,  ipsam  ut  unum  Ens  considerare 
possumus,  et  per  consequens  una  tantum  erit  Dei 
idea  sive  decretum  de  Natura  naturata"  (p.  490). 

On  the  will  of  God  he  begins  with  a  disclaimer  of 
knowledge.  For  he  says  that  he  places  among  the 
desiderata,  how  to  distinguish  between  the  essence  of 
God,  His  intellect  by  which  He  knows  Himself,  and  His 
will  b}^  which  He  wills  to  love  Himself.  Spinoza  is  not 
unmindful  of  the  notion  of  personality  which  theologians 
are  wont  to  use  to  explain  this  difficulty.  But 
although  he  does  not  ignore  the  word,  he  finds  it 
impossible  to  form  a  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  it, 
"  although  we  firmly  believe  that  in  the  most  blessed 
vision  of  God,  which  is  promised  to  the  faithful,  God 
will  reveal  this  to  His  own.  Will  and  power  quoad 
extra  are  not  distinguished  from  the  intellect  of  God, 
for   God   hath   not   only  decreed  that   things   should 


1 82         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

exist,  but  that  they  should  exist  so  that  their  essence 
\and  existence  should  depend  on  His  will  and  power. 
From  which  we  perceive  clearly  and  distinctly  that 
the  intellect,  power,  and  will  of  God,  by  which  He  has 
created,  understood,  and  preserved,  or  loved  created 
things,  are  in  no  way  to  be  distinguished  among 
themselves,  but  only  in  respect  of  our  thought" 
(p.  491).  Having  illustrated  the  statement  that  God 
has  some  things  in  hatred,  from  a  quotation  from 
St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  he  asks :  "  Why, 
then,  does  God  admonish  men  ?  God  from  all  eternity 
decreed  to  admonish  men  at  that  certain  time,  that 
they  whom  He  willed  to  be  saved  might  be  converted  " 
(p.  491).  The  view  is  so  strange  as  coming  from  Spinoza 
that  we  quote  the  following :  "  Could  not  God  have 
saved  them  without  that  admonition  ?  He  could.  Why, 
then,  did  He  not  save  them  ?  To  this  I  will  reply 
after  you  have  told  me  why  God  did  not  cause  the 
Red  Sea  to  flow  backwards  without  a  vehement  east 
wind,  and  why  He  does  not  accomplish  all  particular 
motions  without  others,  and  why  God  does  infinite 
things  by  means  of  intermediate  causes  ?  Why  are 
the  wicked  punished,  for  they  act  according  to  their 
nature,  and  according  to  the  divine  decree  ?  But 
I  reply,  it  is  of  the  divine  decree  that  they  are 
punished,  and  if  only  those  whom  we  feign  to  sin 
out  of  their  own  freedom  are  to  be  punished,  why 
do  men  attempt  to  exterminate  venomous  serpents  ? " 
(p.  491).  He  concludes  this  chapter  with  a  statement 
that  the  sacred  page  teaches  nothing  repugnant  to  the 
light  of  nature. 

How   the  omnipotence  of  God  is  to  be  understood 
is  his   next   inquiry.      He    first   sets   aside   what   he 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  183 

considers  to  be  errors,  and  affirms  that  all  things 
absolutely  depend  on  God.  He  divides  the  power  of 
God  into  ordinate  and  absolute :  ordinate  power  when 
we  have  regard  to  His  decrees,  and  absolute  power 
when  we  do  not  attend  to  His  decrees.  He  also  makes 
a  distinction  between  ordinary  and  extraordinary 
power ;  ordinary  power  being  that  by  which  the  world 
is  preserved  in  a  certain  order,  extraordinary  power 
when  he  does  anything  prceter  ordinem  naturce — for 
example,  all  miracles,  such  as  the  speaking  of  an  ass, 
apparition  of  angels,  and  so  on.  He  next  deals  with 
creation,  which  he  thus  describes.  Creation  is  that"" 
operation  in  which  no  causes  co-operate  beyond 
(prceter)  the  sufficient  cause,  or  a  created  thing  is-- 
that  which  presupposes  for  its  existence  nothing 
beyond  God.  The  vulgar  definition  of  creation  he 
professes  to  reject,  and  he  explicates  in  some  detail 
the  particulars  of  his  own  definition.  Accidents  and 
modes  are  not  created;  there  was  neither  time  nor 
duration  before  creation.  Creation  and  Preserva- 
tion are  the  same  divine  operation.  He  proceeds  to 
inquire  into  the  nature  of  created  and  uncreated 
being,  and  to  ask  if  what  is  created  could  have  been 
created  from  eternity.  He  points  out  how  divine 
differ  from  human  thoughts,  that  there  is  nothing  extra 
Deum,  and  that  although  God  is  eternal  it  does  not 
follow  that  His  works  are  eternal.  A  little  impatience 
is  manifested  with  those  whom  he  imagines  to  be 
his  opponents,  and  he  finally  says  that  it  all  turns 
on  the  distinction  between  eternity  and  duration; 
that  duration  is  unintelligible  apart  from  created 
things,  and  eternity  is  unintelligible  without  God. 
A  chapter  "  De  concursu  Dei "  completes  this  part  of 


1 84         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

the  book,  and  then  he  proceeds  to  deal  with  the  human 
mind.  As  he  concludes  this  part  he  turns  once  more 
to  the  theologians,  and  in  answer  to  them  uses  a 
metaphor  which  appears  in  the  Ethics  also.  He  speaks 
of  the  theological  division  of  the  attributes  of  God 
into  communicable  and  incommunicable,  and  says 
that  it  is  a  distinction  more  of  words  than  of  things. 
For  the  knowledo^e  of  God  no  more  ao^rees  with  the 
knowledge  of  man  than  the  dog-star  w4th  the  dog 
that  barks. 

Speaking  of  human  mind,  well,  it  will  be  better  to 
postpone  this  until  we  come  to  deal  with  the  corres- 
ponding portion  of  the  Ethics.  There  is  nothing  in 
it  which  is  not  in  the  Ethics,  nor  do  we  find  here 
anything  inconsistent  with  the  fuller  teaching  con- 
tained in  the  later  work.  It  is  different  with  the 
other  parts  of  the  Cogitatio  Metaphysica.  There  the 
problems  presented  to  the  mind  of  Spinoza  have  not 
assumed  the  form  which  they  have  in  the  Ethics. 
While  the  determination  to  proceed  from  the  reality 
of  being,  to  assume  the  reality  and  positive  character 
of  the  absolute  and  infinite,  and  the  derivative  and 
imperfect  character  of  the  finite  is  present  in  both 
works,  in  the  earlier  work  the  freedom  of  man  is  still 
a  problem,  the  relation  of  God  to  the  world  is  thought 
of  under  the  thought  of  a  decree,  and  he  hesitates  to 
make  the  world  the  "  other  "  of  God.  The  absoluteness 
of  God  becomes  more  absolute,  and  the  initial  ten- 
dency of  his  system  works  itself  out  even  to  acosmism. 
The  Cogitatio  reminds  us  of  the  thinking  of  Jonathan 
Edwards,  the  great  American  thinker,  between  whom 
and  Spinoza  there  are  many  resemblances,  particularly 
the  love  of  "  Being  "  in  general,  but  on  this  we  do  not 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  185 

dwell.  What  we  do  see  in  Spinoza,  as  his  thought 
proceeds  from  its  expression  in  the  Cogitatio  to  the 
form  of  the  Ethics,  is  that  he  moves  away  from 
many  aspects  of  the  problem  present  in  the  former 
work,  to  their  entire  suppression  in  the  latter.  Free- 
dom has  disappeared,  the  relative  independence  of 
the  world — relatively  independent  at  least  so  far  as 
to  be  the  subject  of  a  decree — has  vanished,  and  the 
NatiLva  naturans  has  its  necessary  outcome  in  the 
Natvura  naUirata.  He  will  not  continue  to  speak 
of  the  absolute  freedom  of  the  Divine  Will.  He  has 
warned  us,  in  the  earlier  work,  that  this  is  only  a 
mode  of  thought,  or,  perhaps  less,  a  mode  of  speech. 
But  in  the  later  work,  at  least  in  the  earlier  part  of 
it,  the  personal  character  of  God  and  His  distinction 
from  the  world,  which  clung  to  Spinoza,  has  vanished, 
and  the  wholeness  of  the  whole  alone  remains.  Yet 
only  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  Ethics  is  the  tendency 
from  the  personal  God  to  the  To  hv  of  Aryan  specu- 
lation so  far  complete ;  in  the  later  part.  Substance 
takes  back  to  itself  the  characteristics  of  the  Jehovah 
of  the  Hebrews,  and  Spinoza  is  still  the  Hebrew,  who 
still  feels  the  weight  of  the  burden  handed  down  to 
him  from  of  old. 


CHAPTER  X 

The  Ethics — The  First  Two  Books — Substance— God — Proofs  of 
the  Existence  of  God — Their  Validity-7-Exclusion  of  ethical 
Conceptions  from  Reality — The  IndeterminateT— Deterhiina- 
tion — Power  aiid  Activity — Modes — Unity  and  Difference — 
Freedom  and  Self-determination — Degrees  of  Reality — 
Natura  naturans  and  Natura  naturata — Free'dom — Teleology 
— Substance,  Attribute,  Mode — Dr.  Warcf  on  Teleology. 

The  final  form  of  the  teaching  of  Spinoza  is  found 
in  the  Ethics.  It  is  in  geometrical  form,  with  all  the 
machinery  of  definitions,  axioms,  lemmas,  postulates, 
and  corollaries,  with  which  geometricians  have  made 

. us  familiar.     It  adds  to  the  difficulty  of  understanding 

his  theory  of  Reality,  for  a  theory  of  Reality  it  is. 
In  order  to  appreciate  the  Ethics  we  must  keep  in 
mind  the  other  works  of  Spinoza,  especially  the  Corres- 
pondence. In  truth,  there  is  no  part  of  his  works 
which  can  be  neglected  in  the  attempt  to  appreciate 
his  philosophy.  We  have  not  space  to  follow  in 
detail  the  definitions,  axioms,  and  so  on ;  we  must  be 
content  with  a  briefer  mode  of  treatment. 
CQod  or  Substance  is  one — absolutely  infinite,  indivis- 

.       ible,  self-determined,  eternal,  conceived  through  itself^ 
alone;   and   because   it   is   so    it   possesses    attributes 
infinite   in   number,   and    each    infinite    in   its   kind, 
eternal,  and   indivisible)     While   Substance  must  be 

186 


THE   NEW    PHILOSOPHY  187 

regarded  as  possessed  of  infinite  attributes,  yet  as 
apprehended  (Jy  the  finite  intelligence  of  man  it  is 
regarded  as  possessed  of  two  only,  that  is  to  say, 
only  two  of  these  attributes  can  be  apprehended  by — • 
man.  These  are  Thought  and  Extension.  Substance^ 
then,  as  apprehended  by  man  is  apprehended  under 
Thought  and  Extension,  and  the  modes  of  Substance 
are  those  finite  presentations  of  it  which  are  perceived 
by  the  senses  and  imagination  as  individual  things 
or  ideas.  The  modes  are  always  finite,  divisible, 
transitory,  and  dependent.  Everything  is  included 
in  the  scheme  of  Substance,  Attribute,  Mode. 

For  Spinoza,  Substance  and  God  are  practically  ^ 
terms  of  the  sam€  extent  of  meaning.  His  main  aim 
in  his  definitions  is  to  get  rid  of  anthropomorphism.;-'^ 
The  God  whose  name  occurs  so  often  in  his  writing^ 
is  not  thought  of  by  him  in  the  terms  used  by  '^^-i 
theologians  or  other  philosophers.  He  is  not  thought 
of  as  Creator,  as  Ruler,  Judge,  nor  does  he  think 
of  God  as  Christian  theologians  do.  Spinoza  regards 
the  use  of  the  terms  of  intellect,  will,  moral  qualities, 
even  personality,  as  altogether  inapplicable  to  God, 
and  he  definitely  and  resolutely  excludes  them  from 
the  nature  of  God.  Substance  is  that  which  is  in 
itself,  and  is  conceived  through  itself.  God  is  defined 
as  a  "  Being  absolutely  infinite,  that  is.  Substance 
consisting  of  infinite  attributes,  of  whicli  each  one 
expresses  eternal  and  infinite  essence J'  1  Attribute  is 
xwhat  the  intellect  perceives  as  constituting  the  essence 
of  Substance.J  We  find  in  the  Propositions  |hat  exist-^^ 
ence  belongs  to  the  nature  of  Substance,  and  Proposi- 
tion 8  with  its  corollaries  shows  it  to  be  infinite  and 
one,  which  identifies  it  with  God.     In  Proposition  11 


1 88         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

the  identification  is  complete.  God  or  Substance,  con- 
sisting of  infinite  attributes  of  which  each  expresses 
eternal  and  infinite  essence,  necessarily  exists ;  and 
Proposition  20  identifies  existence  and  •  essence  in 
God.  "  The  existence  of  God  and  His  essence  are 
one  and  the  same."  ' 

Taking  these  statements,  and  not  asking  at  present 

X  how  they  agree  with  or  differ  from  the  conception 
of  God  as  current  among  men,  we  ask  what  was  the 
meaning  of  Spinoza,  looking  only  at  the  question  as 
a  theory  of  Reality.  It  seems  evident  that  Spinoza 
meant  by  God,  Substance,  Causa  siii;  and  by  all  the 
terms  he  uses,  the  description  of  Reality  as  a  whole, 
Universal  Existence,  or  Being  itself.  Existence  is,  and 
is  a  system ;  it  is  real  as  the  unity  of  thought  and 
being,  and  as  the  final  interpretation  of  both  subjective 
and  objective  experience.  In  Being,  as  such,  there  is  no 
limitation,  no  imperfection ;  limitation  and  determina- 
tion ah  extra  is  the  characteristic  of  finite  being,  for 
finiteness  is  precisely  that  which  limits  finite  existence. 
So  Spinoza  in  many  places  consistently  declares.  All 
determination  is  negation,  so  there  is  in  the  infinite 
Substance  only  self-determination. 
^  The  proofs  of  the  necessary  existence  of  God  are  full 

^  ol*  interest,  and  of  these  there  are  ^ur  alternate  fori£^, 
each  of  which  has  its  interest.  They  are  proofs,  only 
froHi  Spinoza's  point  of  view.  CTake  his  definition 
of  God,  or  Substance,  as  existence  without  limit  or 
qualification,  and  he  says,  grant  that  anything  is  actual 
and  you  must  grant  that  God  is  actual ;  or,  admit  that 
anything  exists  necessarily,  then  the  being  which  is  self- 
dependent  exists  necessarily.  "  We  must  exist  either  in 
ourselves  or  in  something  else  that  necessarily  'exists; 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  189 

therefore  a  Being  absolutely  infinite  necessarily  exists." 
The  proofs  are  valid  if  we  grant  Spinoza's  concep- 
tion of  God.  We  do  not  need  to  prove  existence, 
what  we  need  is  to  define  its  character.  It  is  to  be 
noted  that  perfection  is  used  by  Spinoza  in  his  own 
sense ;  it  means  only  completeness  of  existence,  and  is 
not  to  be  understood  as  if  it  implied  moral  or  mental 
qualities.  For  these — such  as  wisdom,  justice,  goodness 
— are  not  suitable  conceptions  for  the  characterisation 
of  being  in  its  absolute  and  eternal  infinity.  Spinoza 
really  takes  his  stand  on  the  fact  of  existence,  and 
affirms  that  if  there  be  existence  at  all  it  must  be 
somehow  complete/  Incomplete  existence,  taken  by 
itself,  is  self -con  tradictory.^^"'*" 

But  of  what  kind  is  this  Being?  Is  it  the  empty 
abstraction  of  Being  in  general  ?  Is  it  mere  substance 
without  a  predicate  ?  Is  it  that  vaguest  and  most 
barren  of  all  abstractions  which  Hegel  characterises  as 
emjivalent  to  its  opposite — nothingness  ? 

On  any  view,  Being  must  be,  and  it  must  be  real  and 
concrete.  It  must  have  not  merely  the  blank  form  of 
existence ;  it  must  contain  within  itself  all  determina- 
tions, all  relations,  in  the  unity  of  one  system.  This  is 
the  criterion  of  a  system  of  philosophy  which  is  to  be 
an  adequate  and  final  interpretation  of  experience. 
How  does  the  philosophy  of  Spinoza  •  stand  the  test  ? 
Jle  professes  to  avoid  abstract  terms,  and  is  consistent 
in  looking  at  abstractions  as  due  to  the  limitations  of 
human  intelligence.  He  asserts  that  the  more  general 
and  abstract  a  term  is,  the  further  it  is  removed  from 
reality. )  The  question  arises,  has  he  succeeded  in 
getting'  rid  of  abstractions,  or  is  he  still  in  bondage  to 
them,  his  defiance  of  them  notwithstanding  ? 


ipo         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

He  is  persuaded  that  he  is  dealing  with  a  real, 
concrete  universe.  He  seeks  to  start  from  fact,  not 
from  an  idea.  Being  as  the  essence,  truth,  and  fulness 
of  all  that  is,  is  his  datum,  and  his  apparent  deduction 
is  simply  the  explication  of  his  initial  assumption. 
Taking  Being  as  a  whole,  in  its  perfection  and  com- 
pleteness as  a  system,  and  this  is  his  postulate :  he  is 
right  in  affirming  of  it  that  it  is  without  limit,  number, 
or  change.  But  there  is  a  system  of  existing  things 
which  is  determinate,  divisible,  subject  to  change,  and 
finite.  How  is  the  one  system  to  be  deduced  from  the 
other?  How  can  the  concreteness  of  the  whole  and 
its  wholeness  consist  with  the  changeableness  of  the 
Natura  naturata  ?  It  is  the  old  problem  of  perman- 
ence and  change,  or  rather  the  older  problem  of  the  one 
and  the  many,  of  unity  and  difference. 

There  is  another  problem  which  presses  with  great 
weight  on  the  system  of  Spinoza.  *\He  affirms  of  God 
that  He  is  absolutely  indeterminate.  In  Letter  41  he 
says:  "Determination  is  nothing  positive,  but  only  a 
limitation  of  the  existence  of  the  nature  conceived  as 
determinated)  ^  The  question  arises,  how  do  determina- 
tions arise  ?  Spinoza  endeavours  to  answer  by  his 
doctrine  of  Attributes  and  Modes.  "By  Attribute  I 
mean  the  same  thing,  except  that  it  is  called  Attribute 
with  respect  to  the  understanding,  which  attributes  to 
-  Substance  the  particular  nature  aforesaid.".  This  is 
from  Letter  27,  in  which  he  had  written :  "  By 
Substance  I  mean  that  which  is  in  itself  and  is  con- 
ceived through  itself,  that  is,  of  which  the  conception 
does  not  involve  the  conception  of  anything  else." 
The  definition  of  the  Ethics  is :  "  That  which  the  intellect 
perceives  with  regard  to  Substance  as  constituting  its 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  191 

essence. "  The  construction  most  favourable  for  the 
system  of  Spinoza  is  that  which  interprets  the  attributes 
as  infinite  expressions  of  the  all-inclusive  infinite 
Substance.  Yet  the  difficulty  meets  us,  that  these 
expressions  are  relative  to  our  apprehension ;  for  they 
are  what  the  intellect  apprehends  with  regard  to 
Substance  as  constituting  its  essence.  Even  if  the 
attributes  are  the  essence  of  Substance  as  apprehended, 
we  can  scarcely  avoid  the  conclusion  that  the  essence 
apprehended  is  relative  to  the  intellect  that  apprehends, 
and  is  without  significance  to  the  substance  itself.  It 
is  not  enough  to  say  that  the  attribute  is  God's  attri- 
bute, though  it  is  God's  nature  as  viewed  by  man. 
The  polemic  of  Spinoza  against  the  attribution  of 
moral  attributes  to  God  is  quite  as  effective  against 
his  own  view  of  the  attributes. 

The  attributes  which  express  the  essence  of  God  are 
related  to  the  modes,  and  each  mode  expresses  in  a 
determinate  manner  some  attribute  of  God.  The  modes 
are  only  the  manner  in  which  the  infinite  essence 
gives  expression  to  itself.  We  are  met  here  with  the 
difficulty  that  the  modes  are  regarded  negatively  as 
limited,  and  as  such  are  marked  off"  from  the  infinite 
Substance.  In  so  far  as  a  mode  expresses  the  ultimate 
Substance  it  is  positive.  How  are  we  to  explain  these 
positive  and  negative  aspects  ? 

^Returning  to  the  consideration  of  the  indeterminate, 
which  is  for  him  the  main  characteristic  of  the  infinite 
Substance,  we  ask,  how  does  he  reconcile  this  indeter- 
minate with  the  conception  that  in  it  all  determinate 
being  has  its  ground  or  cause  ?  From  indeterminates 
as  such  no  inference  can  be  drawn.  Purely  indeter- 
minate and  abstract  being,  characterised  by  no  positive 


192         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

mark, — for  any  such  mark  would  make  it  determinate, 
— how  can  such  being  enter  on  a  course  of  evolution  ? 
How  is  one  to  pass  from  pure  indeterminateness  to  the 
determinations  that  are  requisite  in  order  that  substance 
should  be  real  ?  (This  is,  however,  not  the  only  view  of 
Substance  which  is  to  be  found  in  Spinoza.  Frequently 
he  speaks  of  Substance  as  the  ens  o^ealissimitin,  the 
sum,  or  the  system  of  all  possible  reality,  in  which  are 
infinite  attributes,  each  of  which  expresses  eternal  and 
infinite  essence,  and  which  contains  all  possible  perfec- 
tion.y  He  has  both  conceptions,  and  he  wavers  between 
them.  But  if  he  insists  on  the  perfect  fulness  of 
reality,  and  uses  it  as  the  ground  of  determinate 
existence,  he  must  let  the  indeterminates  go,  and  must 
look  at  Substance  as  determinate  being,  only  that  the 
ground  of  its  determinateness  is  in  itself  and  not  in 
another.  This  is,  in  fact,  what  he  does  when  he  says 
that  Substance  is  Causa  sui.  The  truth  is,  that  in  this 
crucial  place,  that  is,  in  the  way  of  connection  of  the 
ultimate  ground  of  things  with  the  infinite  diversity  of 
finite  modes,  there  is  no  possible  way  of  transition. 
.For  the  determination  of  particular  things  into  their 
particularity  being  negative,  this  negative  element  has 
to  be  explained,  and  from  the  notion  of  Substance, 
whether  it  is  considered  as  the  indeterminate  or  as  the 
ens  realissimum,  no  explanation  is  forthcoming. 

May  an  explanation  be  found  in  the  thought  that 
God's  power  is  identical  with  His  essence,  and  that  He 
is  activity  itself  ?  In  the  Scholium  to  Ethics,  Part  11. 
Proposition  3,  he  says :;"  We  have  shown  that  God  acts 
by  the  same  necessity  as  that  by  which  He  understands 
Himself ;  in  other  words,  as  it  follows  from  the  necessity 
of  the  divine  nature  (as  all  admit)  that  God  under- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  193 

stands  Himself,  so  by  the  same  necessity  it  follows  that 
God  performs  infinite  acts  in  infinite  ways.  We  further 
showed  that  God's  power  is  God's  essence  in  action, 
therefore  it  is  as  impossible  for  us  to  conceive  God  as 
not  acting  as  to  conceive  Him  as  non-existent."  Being 
is  and  acts,  and  the  infinite  things  which  come  from 
His  infinite  nature  He  necessarily  does)  Is  there  here  a 
way  of  connecting  substance  with  its^odes,  and  a  way 
of  reconciling  the  negative  determination  of  particular 
existence  with  the  causality  of  God  ?  We  are  told  in 
successive  propositions,  e.g.,  (14)  Besides  God  no  sub- 
stance can  be  granted  or  conceived ;  (15)  whatever  is,  is 
in  God,  and  without  God  nothing  can  be,  or  be  con- 
ceived; (16)  from  the  necessity  of  the  divine  nature 
must  follow  an  infinite  number  of  things  in  infinite 
ways,  that  is,  all  things  -^ich  fall  within  the  sphere 
of  the  infinite  intellect  )i  (17)  God  acts  solely  by  the 
laws  of  His  own  nature,  and  is  not  constrained 
by  any  one;  and  (18)  God  is  the  immanent  and  not 
the  transient  cause  of  all  things.  We  ask,  in  passing, 
how  all  these  agree  with  the  notion  of  the  indeter- 
minateness  of  Substance  ?  Surely  these  conceptions 
are  determinate  enough,  and  when  we  put  them  to- 
gether we  reach  the  conception  that  God  is  determinate 
Being,  though  the  reason  of  His  determinateness  is 
from  Himself.  Again,  it  is  scarcely  consistent  with  the 
proposition  "  Omnis  determinatio  est  negatio  "  to  aflarm 
(Prop.  9) :  "  Quo  plus  realitatis  aut  esse  unaquaeque  res 
habet,  eo  plura  attributa  ipsi  competunt."  From  the 
statement  that  determination  is  negative  we  should 
expect  the  conclusion,  that  the  more  the  determinations 
the  greater  would  the  negations  be ;  and  as  every  attri-  ,jr 
bute  of  finite  things  is  a  determination,  the  more  the 
13 


194         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

attributes  are,  the  less  would  the  reality  be.  We  shall 
have  to  invert  the  axiom  and  say,  "  Omnis  determinatio 
est  affirmatio,"  which  would  be  as  true  as  the  other. 

How  to  make  the  transition  from  the  unity  of  the 
substance  to  the  manifoldness  of  the  real  world  is  the 
pressing  question.  Is  it  to  be  accomplished  by  the 
thought  that  God  is  Actus  purus  ?  As  to  the  causality 
of  God,  Spinoza  says  with  emphasis,  that  God  is  the 
cause  of  all  things  and  of  Himself,  the  cause  not  only 
of  their  becoming  but  also  of  their  persistence.  He  is 
a  unique  cause,  for,  in  the  ordinary  meaning  of  cause, 
it  is  only  a  link  in  the  chain  of  things ;  but  God  is  not 
determined  to  be  or  to  act  by  anything  ah  extra.  As 
there  is  nothing  within  or  without  God  to  prompt  Him 
to  act.  He  is  the  (free)  cause  of  all  things ;  "  for  God 
exists  by  the  sole  necessity  of  His  nature,  and  acts  by 
the  sole  necessity  of  His  nature,  wherefore  God  is  the 
sole  free  cause  "  (Prop.  17,  Cor.  2).  Note  the  identifica- 
tion of  freedom  with  the  self-determined  or  completely 
necessary.  There  is  no  fate,  no  external  order,  no 
ideal  even,  which  could  be  a  motive  or  cause  of  the 
divine  action.  God's  nature  is  in  every  way  complete. 
"  From  the  supreme  power  of  God,  that  is,  from  His 
infinite  nature,  an  infinite  number  of  things  have 
necessarily  flowed  forth  in  an  infinite  number  of  ways. 
All  things  flow  forth  with  the  same  necessity  from  the 
divine  nature,  as  from  the  nature  of  a  triangle  it 
follows,  from  eternity,  that  its  three  interior  angles  are 
equal  to  two  right  angles.  The  omnipotence  of  God 
has  been  actual  from  eternity,  and  to  eternity  will 
persist  in  the  same  actuality  "  (Ethics,  1. 17,  Sch.).  That 
necessity  or  self-determination  which  makes  the 
causality  of  God  free  makes  freedom,  contingency,  or 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  195 

possibility  out  of  the  question;  the  existent  order  of 
nature  in  all  its  parts  could  not  have  been  otherwise 
than  it  is.  Possibility  or  contingency  arises,  as  a  con- 
ception, only  from  our  imperfect  knowledge. 

Deferring  for  the  moment  the  polemic  against  the 
freedom  of  the  will  and  final  causes,  we  ask,  have  we, 
through  the  account  of  the  causality,  found  any  way 
of  reconciling  the  unity  of  things  with  their  existence 
in  a  determinate  system?  We  have  in  truth  passed 
from  the  conception  of  causality  altogether,  and  are  in 
the  sphere  of  logical  reason  and  consequent.  The  con- 
nection of  triangularity  with  the  property  of  a  triangle 
instanced  cannot  be  regarded  as  identical  with  the 
relation  of  cause  and  effect.  The  knot  is  cut,  not  un- 
tied, and  the  system  of  things  is  looked  at  from  two 
points  of  view — that  of  cause  and  that  of  effect ;  and  as 
the  notions  of  time  and  change  are  eliminated  there  is  no 
mediation  between  the  two.  For  the  notion  of  cause 
is  in  relation  to  change,  and  the  meaning  of  the  word 
is  strained  when  it  is  looked  at  sub  specie  cetemitatis. 
Thus  the  outcome  of  the  system  of  Spinoza  is  to  sub- 
stitute for  the  variety  of  a  manifold  world,  with  a 
movement  of  growth  in  space  and  time,  the  supposi- 
tion of  a  system  •  of  relations,  in  which  there  is  no 
before  or  after,  in  which  any  part  has  its  place  and 
function  in  virtue  of  the  eternal  causality  of  God.  It 
is  curious  to  note  how  differently  the  notions  of  space 
and  time  are  dealt  with  by  him.  Space  becomes  one 
of  the  attributes  of  God,  indeed  one  of  the  two  by 
which  men  can  know  Him.  God  is  a  res  extensa.  On 
the  other  hand,  time,  in  his  hands,  becomes  purely  sub- 
jective, a  form  which  owes  its  speciousness  to  the  defect 
of  the  finite  mind.     Mathematicians  tell  us  that  time 


196         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

is  the  only  independent  variable,  that  it  is  of  one 
dimension,  and  metaphysicians  tell  us  that  it  is  the 
form  of  the  inner  sense.  But  both  the  mathematicians 
and  the  metaphysicians  tell  us  that  we  cannot  think 
independently  of  time,  any  more  than  motion  out  of 
place  is  possible.  Eliminate  time,  say  that  it  is  merely 
a  defect  of  finite  intelligence,  and  the  universe  becomes 
for  us,  as  for  Spinoza,  something  in  which  there  is  no 
when,  before,  or  after ;  and  if  it  is  to  be  an  intelligible 
system,  it  must  be  regarded  as  a  system  of  permanent 
relations,  each  of  which  is  as  valuable  as  any  other. 

No  doubt  Spinoza  assures  us  that  the  more  directly 
a  thing  owes  its  being  and  persistence  to  the  caus- 
ality of  God,  the  more  of  perfection  it  has.  What 
owes  its  being  directly  to  His  attributes  has  more 
perfection  than  that  which  owes  itself  to  the  modes. 
In  this  way  some  kind  of  gradation  finds  a  place  in 
his  system,  but  the  gradation  is  more  apparent  than 
real.  Is  there  a  unity  in  difference  in  his  system  ? 
One  would  like  to  think  so.  But  the  indeterminate- 
ness  of  substance  stands  between  us  and  that  conclu- 
sion. Still,  he  aimed  at  the  construction  of  a  system  that 
would  manifest  unity  in  difference,  or  that  unity  which 
expresses  itself  in  difference.  At  first  sight  the  scheme 
of  Substance,  Attribute,  Mode,  seems  to  show  that  Sub- 
stance, Attribute,  Mode  are  the  ways  in  which  being 
must  of  necessity  express  itself.  But  that  would  lead 
to  the  conclusion  that  determination  is  a  characteristic 
of  God,  and  we  are  warned  off  from  that  conclusion  by 
the  express  teaching  about  His  indeterminateness.  He 
tells  us,  again,  that  "  particular  things  are  nothing  but 
affections  of  God's  attributes,  or  modes  by  which  God's 
attributes  are  expressed  in  a  determinate  and  definite 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  197 

way"  (Part  I.  Prop.  25,  Cor.).  This  would  seem  to 
secure  for  particular  things  some  kind  of  individuality, 
but  it  does  not  show  how  particular  things  have  their 
place  in  a  system  of  reality.  In  other  words,  Spinoza 
scarcely  seems  to  think  of  a  whole,  in  which  each 
thing  has  its  special  part  and  function ;  he  is  so  careful 
to  avoid  anthropomorphism  that  he  neglects  many  of 
the  most  fruitful  categories  of  explanation.  Particular 
things  are  in  time,  and  time  is  a  mere  help  to  the 
imagination,  and  the  apprehension  of  particular  things 
is  so  far  an  illusion. 

In  Proposition  29,  Scholium,  he  says :  "  I  wish  to  ex- 
plain what  is  to  be  understood  by  Natura  naturans  and 
NaUira  naturata,  or  rather  to  point  it  out.  From  what 
has  been  said  before,  it  is  sufficiently  clear  that  by 
Natura  naturans  is  to  be  understood  by  us  that  which 
is  in  itself,  and  is  conceived  through  itself,  or  such  attri- 
butes of  substance  as  express  infinite  and  eternal  essence, 
— that  is,  God,  in  so  far  as  He  is  considered  as  a  free 
cause.  By  Natura  naturata  I  understand  all  that 
which  follows  out  of  {ex)  the  necessity  of  the  nature 
of  God,  or  of  any  one  of  the  attributes  of  God — that 
is,  all  the  modes  of  the  attributes  of  God,  in  so  far  as 
they  are  considered  as  things  in  God,  and  which  cannot 
be,  or  be  conceived,  without  God.y  Proposition  21 :  God 
as  cause  and  God  as  effect,  or  rather  God  as  ground  and 
God  as  consequent,  is  the  substance  of  the  paragraph. 
But  neither  relationship  expresses  his  meaning  exactly. 
If  we  take  the  relation  as  that  of  cause  and  effect, 
we  are  landed  in  the  supposition  of  priority  of  the 
one  to  the  other,  and  that  involves  the  idea  of  time. 
If  the  relation  of  ground  and  consequence  rules,  then 
we   are  constrained   to  think  of   the    ground   as   in- 


198         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

complete  without  the  consequence.  The  difficulty  in 
either  case  is  that  we  have  to  think  of  relations  and 
differences  within  the  one,  and  we  have  no  way  of 
thinking  them.  For  cause  and  effect,  ground  and  con- 
sequence are  relations,  and  relations  are  not  at  home 
in  the  indeterminate. 

As  we  follow  the  evolution  of  his  thought  along  one 
side  of  it,  we  find  that'  Spinoza  holds  that  God  is  ab- 
solutely one  in  all  the  states  of  His^  being.  Everything 
that  is  and  works,  manifests  God.  ^  In  His  essentia  or 
-'^  potentia  all  realities  are  comprehended,  and  His  power 
"^is  actual  in  all  the  grades  of  reality.  As  we  pass  to 
the  consideration  of  Natiira  naturata,  and  to  finite 
being,  we  are  confronted  with  limitations  and  nega- 
tions which  are  unexplained.,  Are  these  limitations  or 
defects  only  illusions,  entia  rationis  which  have  no  bear- 
ing on  God,  but  only  a  bearing  on  finite  things  ?  Then 
in  the  Natiira  naturata  we  have  only  an  appearance, 
and  specially  the  world  of  things  in  time  and  space  is 
an  illusion.  God,  let  us  remember,  is  wholly  one,  and 
in  that  oneness  He  must  contain  all  the  characteristic 
marks  which  complete  knowledge  could  find  in  the 
real.  All  perfections  are  in  Him,  and  He  is  the  actual- 
isation  of  all  possible  existence.  Reality  extends  far 
beyond  those  attributes  of  Thought  and  Extension  by 
which  God  is  apprehended  in  the  human  intellect. 
How  are  the  attributes  related  to  the  one  substance  ? 
and  how  are  they  related  to  each  other  ?  There  is  no 
answer  to  this  question.  The  attributes  are  separate 
and  distinct  from  each  other,  they  are  related  only  to 
the  substance,  and  yet  there  is  no  possibility  of  thinking 
them  as  varieties  of  the  one  substance.  From  the 
unbroken  unity  of  the  substance  to  the  side-by-side- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  199 

ness  of  the  attributes  there  is  no  transition.  Even  in 
relation  to  the  infiniteness  of  the  attributes  the  prin- 
ciple of  determinateness  or  negation  must  enter  in,  for 
they  are  distinct  from  each  other.  It  is  not  possible  to 
hold  together  the  conception  of  God  as  exclusive  of 
all  determination,  and  as  comprehending  an  infinite 
diversity  of  ultimate  attributes,  each  of  which  is 
different  from  the  others.  As  a  scheme  for  the  uniting 
of  the  one  and  the  many,  it  becomes  more  incoherent 
the  more  it  is  examined. 

Passing  to  his  polemic  against  freedom  and  final 
causes,  we  have  to  remark  that  in  this  connection  we 
shall  find  that  Spinoza  makes  abundant  use  of  the 
principle  of  illusion  as  a  source  of  explanation  or  a 
means  of  explaining  away  what  is  inconsistent  with  the 
principles  of  his  philosophy.  In  the  long  run  the  appeal 
must  be  to  the  experience  of  man,  for  in  the  end  a  system 
of  philosophy  must  be  the  interpretation  of  experience. 
It  need  not  be  empirical,  but  it  must  interpret  experience 
and  be  consistent  with  experience.  In  truth,  every 
philosophy  admits  the  claim,  and  all  philosophies  admit 
that  they  must  satisfy  it.  If  any  experience  is  held 
to  be  illusive  the  illusiveness  must  be  explained,  not 
simply  declared  dogmatically  to  be  illusive.  What, 
then,  is  the  basis  of  Spinoza's  polemic  against  freedom  ? 
In  Letter  62  he  says :  (j.  say  that  a  thing  is  free 
which  exists  and  acts  solely  by  the  necessity  of  its 
own  nature.  Thus  God  also  understands  Himself 
and  all  things  freely,  because  it  follows  solely  from  the 
necessity  of  His  nature  that  He  should  understand  all 
things.  You  see,  I  do  not  place  freedom  in  free  de- 
cision, ^)ut  in  free  necessity.  However,  let  us  descend 
to  created  things,  which  are  all  determined  by  external 


200         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

'  things  to  exist  and  operate  in  a  given  determinate 
manner.  In  order  that  this  may  be  clearly  understood, 
let  us  conceive  a  very  simple  thing.  For  instance,  a 
stone  receives  from  the  impulsion  of  an  external  cause 
a  certain  quantity  of  motion,  by  virtue  of  which  it 
continues  to  move  after  the  impulsion  given  by 
the  external  cause  has  ceased.  The  permanence  of 
the  stone's  motion  is  constrained,  not  necessary,  because 
it  must  be  defined  by  the  impulsion  of  an  external 
cause.  What  is  true  of  the  stone  is  true  of  any  indi- 
vidual, however  complicated  its  nature  or  varied  its 
functions,  inasmuch  as  every  individual  thing  is  neces- 
sarily determined  by  some  external  cause  to  exist  and 
operate  in  a  fixed  and  (germinate  manner"  (Elwes' 
Trans.,  vol.  ii.  p.  390).  x  Men  think  themselves  free, 
inasmuch  as  they  are  conscious  of  their  volitions  and 
desires,  and  never  even  dream  in  their  ignorance  of 
the  causes  which  have  disposed  them  so  to  wish  and 
desire."^  Imagine  a  stone  to  be  conscious  and  know 
that  it  endeavours  to  persist  in  its  motion.  This  stone, 
since  it  is  conscious  only  of  its  own  endeavour  and 
deeply  interested  in  it,  will  believe  that  it  is  perfectly 
free,  and  continues  in  motion  for  no  other  reason  than 
that  it  so  wills.  This  is  the  illustration  of  the  illusion 
of  will  and  freedom  given  by  him  in  a  subsequent 
part  of  the  letter  quoted  above.  We  ask,  is  it  an 
adequate  interpretation  of  human  experience  in  its 
consciousness  of  freedom  ?  The  answer  must  be.  No. 
For  even  though  action  and  reaction  are  always  equal 
and  opposite,  yet  the  reaction  from  a  kick  to  a  stone 
is  one  thing,  and  the  reaction  from  a  kick  to  a  dog  is 
another  thing.  The  last  may  be  rather  inconvenient 
to  the  kicker.     From  Spinoza's  practice  we  gather  that 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  201 

he  was  in  the  way  of  thinking  twice,  and  exercised  the 
freedom  of  striving  to  bring  his  thoughts  into  con- 
sistency with  truth.  Was  he,  then,  ignorant  of  the 
causes  which  disposed  him  to  think  again  and  again  ? 
It  may  be  true,  it  likely  is,  that  freedom  is  self-deter- 
mination, but  it  is  implied  that  the  self  can  determine 
itself  to  something.  Man  can  form  an  ideal  for  him- 
self, and  if  he  can,  all  the  contentions  of  Spinoza  are 
irrelevant.  Abstract  from  the  inner  life,  and  look  at 
man  as  a  link  in  the  chain  of  things,  and  you  may 
describe  him  in  Spinoza's  terms ;  take  into  consideration 
all  the  elements  of  the  problem,  and  take  account  of 
the  self-conscious  life  of  man,  and  freedom  must  be 
regarded  as  real.  We  can  look  before  and  after,  and 
pine  for  what  is  not.  We  can  dream  dreams,  and  see 
visions,  and  give  to  airy  nothing  a  local  habitation  and 
a  name.  There  are  such  things  as  books,  houses,  cities, 
ships,  railways, — all  the  multiform  and  multitudinous 
works  of  man, — all  of  which  prove  that  human  voli- 
tions and  human  activities  count  for  something  in  the 
scheme  of  things. 

We  appeal  to  the  example  of  Spinoza  against  the 
mere  determinism  of  Spinoza.  He  is  himself  an 
example  of  the  truth  that  human  volition  and  human 
activity  is  a  vera  causa.  For  his  system  is  his  own, 
and  is  as  much  poetry  as  philosophy.  It  is  a  great 
illustration  of  the  reality  of  human  freedom,  and  of  the 
worth  of  human  activity.  He  had  a  high  ideal  of  con- 
duct,— was  that  the  work  in  him  of  an  external  cause? 
He  shaped  his  conduct  after  that  ideal — why  ?  He 
held  the  doctrine  of  the  activity  of  human  intelligence, 
and  in  his  hands  that  activity  produced  something, — 
did  his  intelligence  simply  move  as  it  was  moved  ? 


202         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

Our  contention  is,  that  Spinoza  ignored  altogether,  or 
explained  away,  some  of  the  most  essential  features 
of  our  experience.  As  he  denied  freedom,  so  he  also 
denied  final  cause.  Bacon  had  called  final  causes 
vestal  virgins  which  could  produce  no  fruit.  Descartes 
had  in  pretended  humility  ignored  them ;  it  was 
reserved  for  Spinoza  to  treat  them  as  illusions,  mere 
subjectivities  whose  very  existence  depended  on  the 
ignorance  and  finiteness  of  man.  He  is  aware  of  the 
fact  "  that  men  do  all  things  for  an  end,  namely,  for 
that  which  is  useful  to  them,  and  which  they  seek. 
Thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  they  only  look  for  a 
knowledge  of  the  final  causes  of  events,  and  when 
these  are  learned  they  are  content,  as  having  no 
cause  for  further  doubt.  If  they  cannot  learn  such 
causes  from  external  sources  they  are  compelled  to 
turn  to  considering  themselves,  and  reflecting  what 
end  would  have  induced  them  personally  to  bring 
about  the  given  event,  and  thus  they  judge  necessarily 
other  natures  by  their  own.  Further,  as  they  find 
in  themselves  and  outside  themselves  many  means 
which  assist  them  not  a  little  in  their  search  for 
what  is  useful, — for  instance,  eyes  for  seeing,  teeth 
for  chewing,  herbs  and  animals  for  yielding  food, 
the  sun  for  giving  light,  the  sea  for  breeding  fish, 
etc., — they  come  to  look  on  the  whole  of  nature  as 
a  means  for  obtaining  such  conveniences "  (Book  I., 
Appendix).  So  prone  is  man  to  such  a  mode  of 
thouglit  that  the  trutli  might  have  been  concealed 
from  him  to  all  eternity  "if  mathematics  had  not 
furnished  a  standard  of  verity,  in  considering  solely 
the  essence  and  properties  of  figures  without  regard 
to  final  causes."     There  is   no   doubt  in  the  mind  of 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  203 

Spinoza  about  cause;  he  regards  it  as  true,  effective, 
and  necessary.  Causality  as  power  is  at  the  basis 
of  his  system,  and  is  the  nerve  of  his  argument. 
Yet  the  days  to  come  have  revealed  the  possibility 
of  making  the  idea  of  cause  as  subjective  as  Spinoza 
made  the  idea  of  final  cause.  All  students  of  philo- 
sophy know  Hume,  and  he  made  the  source  of  the 
idea  of  cause  to  be  custom.  And  any  argument  that 
answers  Hume  regarding  cause  will  answer  Spinoza 
regarding  final  cause. 

At  all  events,  some  explanation  of  man's  belief  in 
final  cause  is  needed,  and  if  it  be  an  illusion  the  rise 
of  the  illusion  should  be  accounted  for.  It  is  a  matter 
of  fact ;  nature  is  amenable  to  our  ends,  and  we  can 
make  ourselves  at  home  in  this  world.  The  teleo- 
logical  aspect  of  things  has  been  made  vivid  to  us 
all  by  the  great  work  of  Darwin  and  his  followers, 
who  have  made  evolution  almost  a  form  of  modern 
thought.  A  purpose  and  a  meaning  is  sought  for 
with  regard  to  every  animal,  and  to  every  part  of 
every  animal,  down  to  the  colour  of  animals  and  birds. 
Life  is  teleological  through  and  through.  The  normal 
activity  of  man  is  activity  for  an  end.  Activity 
prompted  by  intelligent  purpose,  and  conscious  voli- 
tion aiming  at  a  foreseen  and  designed  result,  is  the 
character  of  human  intelligence.  From  this  point  of 
view  every  activity  of  man  is  teleological,  whether 
he  is  building  railways,  cathedrals,  or  thinking  out 
the  principles  of  their  construction.  Teleological  also 
is  the  activity  of  Newton  when  he  thinks  out  the 
Principia,  and  of  Spinoza  in  writing  his  Ethics.  In 
fact,  Spinoza  himself  tells  us  so.  But  his  action  was 
teleological  in  a  deeper  sense,  for  the  desire  to  know, 


204  THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

even    where     practice     does    not    follow,   is    for    an 
end. 

Spinoza  also  helps  us  against  himself  when  he  has 
laid  so  strong  a  stress  on  the  principle  of  self-conser- 
vation. It  is  a  most  important  and  far-reaching  prin- 
ciple, and  naturalists  tell  us  that  a  living  machine 
is  one  that  does  not  depend  on  external  impulses  for 
its  movements.  That  is  the  principle  of  the  self- 
conservation  of  animals,  and  it  is  teleological.  See 
the  able  discussion  in  Dr.  Ward's  GifFord  Lecture : 
"  We  have  seen,"  says  Dr.  Ward,  "  that  the  process 
of  natural  knowledge  is  teleological  in  its  origin, 
since  it  was  prompted  and  sustained  by  practical 
motives.  Also,  that  the  conception  of  natural  law  is 
teleological  in  its  character, — first,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
hypothetical,  and  every  hypothesis  is  means  to  an 
end,  a  theoretical  organon  that  may  or  may  not  work  ; 
secondly,  and  more  specially,  inasmuch  as  the  hypo- 
thesis is  that  Nature  will  conform  to  the  conditions 
of  our  intelligence.  ...  It  being  in  general  granted 
that  our  conception  of  the  unity  and  regularity  of 
Nature  is  entitled  to  the  name  of  knowledge — being 
ever  confirmed,  never  falsified,  by  experience — we  are 
now  equally  entitled  to  say  that  this  unity  and 
regularity  of  nature  proves  that  nature  itself  is  teleo- 
logical, and  that  in  two  respects  : — (1)  It  is  conformable 
to  human  intelligence,  and  (2)  in  consequence  it  is 
amenable  to  human  ends"  (Dr.  Ward's  Naturalism 
and  Agnosticism,  vol.  ii.  pp.  253,  254). 


CHAPTER  XI 

Application  of  the  Principles  of  the  System  to  the  Life  of  Man — 
Reply  to  the  Charge  of  Atheism —Definitions — Res  cogitans 
et  res  extensa  —  The  adequate  Idea  —  Kant  on  the  Question 
how  Things  are  given  us — A  Science  of  Nature— Properties 
of  Matter — Parallelism — Association  of  Ideas — Knowledge — 
The  three  Kinds  of  Knowledge  —  Sub  specie  ceternitatis  — 
Will  and  Understanding — Will  and  Desire. 

In  the  Preface  to  the  second  part  of  the  Ethics 
Spinoza  explains  the  plan  and  purpose  of  the  rest 
of  the  book.  "  I  now  pass  on  to  explaining  the  results 
which  must  necessarily  follow  from  the  essence  of 
God,  or  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  Being ;  not  indeed 
all  of  them,  but  only  those  which  are  able  to  lead 
us,  as  it  were  by  the  hand,  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
human  mind  and  its  highest  blessedness"  (Elwes, 
vol.  ii.  p.  82).  From  a  scheme  of  the  inevitable 
necessity  of  things  he  has  to  explain  the  nature  of 
man  and  man's  place  in  Nature,  and  to  develop  a 
system  of  ethics  and  politics  which  will  do  some 
justice  to  the  facts  of  human  life  and  character.  He 
is  quite  conscious  of  the  nature  of  his  task,  and 
he  does  not  shrink  from  it.  In  Letter  49  he  says, 
in  answer  to  the  charge  that  he  had  thrown  oif 
all  religion:  "I  would  ask  whether  a  man  throws 
off    all     religion     who     maintains     that    God    must 

205 


2o6         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,   AND 

be  acknowledged  as  the  highest  good,  and  must, 
as  such,  be  loved  with  a  free  mind?  or  again, 
that  the  reward  of  virtue  is  virtue  itself,  while  the 
punishment  of  folly  and  wickedness  is  folly  itself? 
or  lastly,  that  every  man  ought  to  love  his  neigh- 
bour, and  to  obey  the  commands  of  the  Supreme 
Power?  ...  I  proceed  to  the  deduction  whereby  he 
wishes  to  show  that,  'with  covert  and  disguised 
arguments,  I  teach  atheism.'  The  foundation  of  his 
reasoning  is,  that  he  thinks  I  take  awayiireedom^om 
God  and  subject  Him  to  fate.  This  is  flatly  false.  For 
I  liavelnaintained,  that  all  things  follow  by  inevitable 
necessity  from  the  nature  of  God,  that  He  understands 
Himself ;  no  one  denies"lliat  tTiis^ratter  consequence 
follows  necessarily  from  the  divine  nature,  yet  no 
one  conceives  that  God  is  constrained  by  fate ;  they 
believe  that  He  understands  Himself ^with_jentire 
freedom,  though  necessarily.TTT  .  Further,  this  jn- 
evitable  necessity  in  things^  destroysneither  divine 
laws  nor  humaiL  FoFlnoral  principles,  whetherthey 
have  recervedT  from  God  the  form  of  laws  or  not, 
are  nevertheless  divine  and  salutary.  Whether  we 
accept^jthe^goodwliich  follows  from  virtue  and  the 
divine  love,  as  given  us  by  God  as  a  judge,  ^or^as 
emanating  from  the  necessity  of  the  divine  nature, 
it  is  not  in  either  case  mor^;QrIIesi-4e— be— desired ; 
nor  are  the  evils  which  follow  from  evil  actions  less 
to  be  feared,  because  they  follow  necessarily :  finally, 
whether  we  act  under  necessity  or  freedom,  we  are 
in  either  case  led  by  hope  and  fear"  (Elwes,  vol.  ii. 
pp.  365,  366). 

It  is  only  just  to  state,  in  his  own  words,  the  convic- 
tion of  Spinoza  that  a  system  of  inevitable  necessity 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  207 

is  in  his  view  reconcilable  with  all  the  characteristics 
of  moral  life,  and  that  his  own  scheme  is  consistent 
through  and  through, — at  least,  he  thinks  so.  In 
this  relation  one  might  refer  to  that  chapter  in 
the  Analogy  in  which  Bishop  Butler  discusses  the 
theme,  "  On  the  opinion  of  necessity  as  influencing 
practice,"  in  which  he  comes  to  various  conclusions ; 
among  others  to  this,  that  to  say  anything  is  by 
necessity  does  not  exclude  choice  and  design,  which 
are  matters  of  experience.  So  Spinoza  argues  that 
whether  "  we  act  under  necessity  or  freedom  we  are 
in  either  case  led  by  hope  and  fear."  But  the  question 
cannot  be  argued  here. 

Only,  it  is  fair  to  state  Spinoza's  view,  that  his 
whole  scheme  of  Reality  has  good  and  worthy  results 
as  it  is  applied  to  the  life  of  man ;  and  his  persuasion 
that  all  real  human  experience  finds  a  fitting  place  in 
his  system.  Whether  logically  the  scheme  of  Reality, 
outlined  in  the  first  part  of  the  Ethics,  can  be  recon- 
ciled with  the  teaching  of  the  other  parts  is  another 
question.  Meanwhile  let  us  look  at  his  doctrine  of  the 
human  mind. 

He  begins  with  definitions  of  body,  essence,  idea, 
adequate  idea,  duration,  and  he  explicitly  identifies 
perfection  and  reality.  His  axioms  are,  that  the 
essence  of  man  does  not  involve  necessarv_existence : 
that  man  thinks ;  that  m-odes  of  thinking,  such  as 
love,  desire,  do  not  take  place  unless  there  be  in  the 
individual  an  idea  of  the  thing  .desired,  but  the  idea 
can  exist  without  the  presence  of  any  other  mode 
of  thinking.  One  of  the  most  important  of  these 
definitions  is  that  of  an  adequate  idea.  "By  an 
adequate  idea  I  mean  an  idea  which,  in  so  far  as  it 


208         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

is  considered  in  itself  without  relation  to  the  object, 
has  all  the  intrinsic  properties  of  a  true  idea.  I  say 
intrinsic  in  order  to  exclude  that  which  is  extrinsic, 
namely,  the  agreement  between  the  idea  and  its 
object "  (Elwes,  p.  82).  The  definition  is  forced  on 
Spinoza  by  his  doctrine  of  the  attributes.  The  attri- 
butes of  Thought  and  Extension,  to  take  these  attributes 
of  God  which  man  can  know,  are  quite  different  from 
each  other.  You  cannot  pass  from  one  to  the  other. 
All  things  in  Extension  are  to  be  explained  from 
the  attribute  of  Extension,  and  thought  thinks  from 
thought.  How  can  we  relate  the  one  to  the  other? 
In  truth,  there  is  no  agreement  nor  disagreement; 
each  goes  along  by  itself,  and  for  the  agreement  of 
an  idea  with  its  object  we  must  substitute  the  notion 
of  an  adequate  idea.  The  truth  of  an  idea  belongs 
to  it  internally,  and  it  is  not  made  true  by  an  agree- 
ment with  its  object.  Further,  an  idea  is  the  result 
of  an  activity  of  the  mind.  It  is  the  mental  concep- 
tion which  is  formed  by  the  mind  as  a  thinking 
thing.  Here  he  formally  distinguishes  between  per- 
ception and  conception.  In  perception  the  mind  seems 
to  be  passive  with  respect  to  its  object,  in  conception  it 
is  active. 

We  have  here  the  problem  of  the  relation  between 
thought  and  its  content,  of  thought  and  fact,  of  the 
idea  to  reality ;  or,  in  other  aspects  of  the  problem, 
the  relation  of  mind  and  body,  of  the  psychical  to  the 
physical.  How  numerous  and  varied  the  solutions 
have  been,  we  need  not  say.  The  discussion  proceeds 
to-day  as  actively  as  ever,  and  it  goes  on  in  relation 
to  the  claims  of  mechanism  to  dominate,  and  to  make 
the    psychical    a    mere    accompaniment    of    physical 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  209 

changes.  Spinoza,  in  view  of  the  facts  as  viewed 
by  him,  sets  forth  the  doctrine  of  an  adequate  idea. 
He  thinks  that  this  doctrine  makes  the  solution  inde- 
pendent of  the  relation  which  might  obtain  between 
an  idea  and  its  object.  In  so  doing  he  merely  adds 
to  the  complexity  of  the  problem,  and  adds  the  diffi- 
culty which  cost  Kant  so  many  years  of  anxious  in- 
vestigation. It  were  a  possible  solution  of  the  problem 
to  regard  the  relation  between  object  and  idea  as  one 
of  cause  and  effect.  To  hold  that  the  mind  is  a  tabula 
rosa  on  which  the  external  order  inscribes  its  method 
and  procedure  until  absolute  uniformities  of  experi- 
ence have  generated  absolute  uniformities  of  thought 
might  be  a  possible  solution,  as  we  see  from  the  story 
of  English  philosophy  from  Locke  to  Herbert  Spencer. 
Or  we  might  avoid  the  problem  by  saying  that  each 
order  goes  along  by  itself,  and  their  agreement  is  only 
a  coincidence  brought  about  by  an  external  power. 
Or  we  might  call  them  the  convex  and  concave  aspects 
of  the  same  series ;  or  call  in  the  aid  of  the  double- 
aspect  theory.  In  all  of  these  there  is  the  recognition 
of  a  problem  to  be  solved,  and  but  scanty  success  in 
the  solution  proposed. 

Does  the  doctrine  of  the  adequate  idea  help  us  in 
any  way  ?  It  adds  to  the  difficulty.  For  it  brings  in 
the  independent  activity  of  the  mind,  and  brings  no 
help  to  us  in  seeing  how  the  independent  activity  of 
the  mind  can  reach  results  which  agree  with  the  order 
of  things.  This  is  that  aspect  of  the  problem  set  forth 
by  Kant  in  a  letter  to  Marcus  Herz,  of  date  9th  Feb- 
ruary 1772.  He  writes  to  Herz  to  tell  him  of  a  projected 
treatise  to  consist  of  two  parts :  (1)  Phenomenology, 
and  (2)  on  Metaphysics.  He  explains  what  progress 
14 


210        DESCARTES,   SPINOZA,   AND 

he  had  made,  and  describes  the  emergence  of  a  diflSculty 
hitherto  neglected  by  all  metaphysicians,  as  it  had 
been  neglected  by  himself.  "On  what  ground  rests 
the  relation  of  what  we  call  a  presentation  to  its 
object?"  If  the  presentation  is  an  effect  wrought  by 
the  object  as  a  cause,  then  the  determination  of  con- 
sciousness may  present  something — it  may  have  an 
object.  The  passive  or  sensuous  presentations  have 
an  intelligible  relation  to  objects,  and  the  principles 
which  are  taken  from  our  minds  have  an  intelligible 
worth  for  all  things,  so  far  as  they  are  the  objects  of 
our  senses.  Having  spoken  of  various  possible  solu- 
tions, Kant  observes  "that  our  understanding  is  through 
our  presentations  neither  the  cause  of  the  object  nor 
is  the  object  the  cause  of  the  presentations  of  the 
understanding."  He  says  that  in  the  Dissertation  he 
was  content  to  characterise  presentations  in  a  merely 
negative  way,  and  had  said  that  sensuous  things  pre- 
sent things  as  they  appear,  intellectual  presentations  as 
they  are.  But  how  are  things  given  to  us  if  not  in 
the  way  in  which  they  affect  us,  and  if  such  intellectual 
presentations  rest  on  our  inner  activity  whence  comes 
the  agreements  with  objects  which  are  not  produced 
by  them  ?  And  the  principles  (axiomata)  of  pure 
reason  which  are  independent  of  experience,  how  and 
why  do  these  agree  with  objects,  and  how  are  they  valid  ? 
Kant's  perplexity  is,  at  this  time,  that  he  can  give  no 
reasonable  account  of  the  agreement  between  reason  and 
things  (see  the  letter  in  Kant's  Gesammelte  Schriften, 
Band  i.  pp.  123-130).  How  can  reason  a  priori  form 
to  itself  notions  of  things  with  which  things  necessarily 
agree,  and  how  can  reason  set  forth  principles  with 
which  experience  shall  agree  ?    In  other  words,  what  is 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  211 

the  source  of  the  agreement  between  reason  and 
things?  is  the  problem  set  forth  by  Kant;  and  the 
answer  to  which  forms  the  scope  of  the  critical 
philosophy. 

Is  Spinoza  aware  of  the  problem?  Yes,  and  no. 
He  is  aware  of  it  in  so  far  as  he  finds  that  he  must 
have  a  system  of  ideas  which  can  be  understood  in 
themselves  without  reference  to  their  agreement  with 
their  objects.  He  must  conserve  the  independence  of 
the  attributes.  Extension  must  be  explained  by  exten- 
sion, and  thought  by  thought.  Nor  does  he  bring 
these  in  relation  to  each  other,  though  he  admits  that 
Extension  is  intelligible  to  thought,  while  thought  can 
think  itself,  and  also  think  Extension.  But  what  is 
the  explanation  of  the  intelligibility  of  the  universe  ? 
The  answer  of  Spinoza  is  the  answer  of  all  believers 
in  the  absolute,  from  Parmenides  onwards,  though  he 
expresses  it  as  bluntly  as  any  one  of  them  ever  did. 
Proposition  7,  Part  II. :  "  Orde  et  connexio  idearum  idem 
est,  ac  ordo  et  connexio  rerum."  The  proof  is  that 
everything  that  is  caused  depends  on  a  knowledge  of 
the  cause  of  which  it  is  the  effect.  Granted,  but  why 
should  a  knowledge  of  a  cause  in  the  attribute  of 
Extension  lead  to  a  knowledge  of  an  effect  in  the  order 
of  ideas  ?  or  vice  versd.  He  has  just  told  us  that  each 
attribute  is  conceived  through  itself  without  any  other ; 
why  should  the  order  and  connection  of  ideas  give  the 
order  and  connection  of  things  ?  There  is  no  answer 
save  that  "  whatsoever  can  be  perceived  by  the  infinite 
intellect  as  constituting  the  essence  of  Substance  belongs 
altogether  only  to  one  Substance ;  consequently.  Sub- 
stance thinking  and  Substance  extended  are  one  and 
the    same    Substance,    comprehended     now    through 


2  12         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

one  attribute,  now  through  the  other;  so  also,  a 
mode  of  extension  and  the  idea  of  that  mode  are  one 
and  the  same  thing,  though  expressed  in  two  ways." 

Why  should  the  thing  be  expressed  in  two  ways? 
A  mode  of  extension  is  to  be  explained  by  reference  to 
the  attribute  of  extension,  and  so  of  an  idea.  There 
is  no  possibility  of  contact  between  the  two  attributes 
till  we  trace  them  back  into  the  one  Substance,  and 
even  there  they  remain  in  their  distinctness.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  necessities  of  his  system  compel  Spinoza 
to  postulate  points  of  contact  between  modes  of  exten- 
sion and  modes  of  thought  everywhere,  and  the  possi- 
bility of  such  is  never  established,  and  can  never  be,  on 
the  view  of  the  mutual  independence  of  the  attributes. 

Leaving  this  problem,  let  us  endeavour  to  follow  him 
as  he  sketches  the  outline  of  a  possible  science  of 
nature.  It  will  be  well  to  remember,  in  this  con- 
nection, the  warnins:  of  Clerk  Maxwell :  "  The  notion 
that  space  is  the  only  form  of  '  material '  substance, 
and  all  existing  things  but  affections  of  space,  forms 
one  of  the  ultimate  foundations  of  the  system  of 
Spinoza.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  trace  it  down  to 
more  modern  times,  but  I  would  advise  those  who 
study  any  system  of  metaphysics  to  examine  carefully 
that  part  of  it  which  deals  with  physical  ideas" 
(Matter  and  Motion,  p.  18).  Keeping  this  advice  in 
view,  let  us  look  at  the  series  of  physical  propositions 
which  set  forth  Spinoza's  conception  of  physical  science. 
Bodies  are  not  distinguished  from  each  other  in  respect 
of  substance,  but  only  in  respect  of  motion  or  rest. 
The  motion  or  rest  of  a  body  is  determined  by  another 
body,  and  this  again  by  another,  and  so  on.  The 
manner  in  which  a  body  is  determined  depends  partly 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  213 

on  its  own  nature,  partly  on  the  nature  of  the  body 
affecting  it.  "  When  any  given  bodies  of  the  same  or 
different  magnitudes  are  compelled  by  other  bodies  to 
remain  in  contact,  or  if  they  be  moved  at  the  same  or 
different  rates  of  speed,  so  that  their  mutual  move- 
ments should  preserve  among  themselves  a  certain 
fixed  relation,  we  say  that  such  bodies  are  in  union, 
and  that  together  they  compose  one  body  or  individual, 
which  is  distinguished  from  other  bodies  by  this  fact 
of  union"  (Elwes,  p.  95).  Thus  an  individual  may 
remain  the  same,  though  new  parts  may  be  added,  other 
parts  taken  off,  or  though  the  magnitude  and  motions 
of  parts  change.  The  oneness  is  in  the  combination. 
Many  such  individuals  may  form  an  individual  of  a 
higher  order,  and  these  again  form  a  unity,  till  the 
whole  of  nature  may  be  regarded  as  a  single  individual. 
The  individual  remains  the  same,  though  the  parts 
vary  in  infinite  ways. 

Properties  of  matter  are  thus  limited  to  the  qualities 
of  motion  and  rest,  for  he  expressly  says  that  "  bodies 
are  individual  things  which  are  distinguished  from 
each  other  in  respect  to  motion  and  rest."  He  has  no 
explanation  of  the  possibility  of  motion  in  a  matter 
which  has  only  the  attribute  of  extension,  nor  has  he 
indicated  how  there  can  be  that  aggregation  of  space 
which  he  calls  a  body.  In  fact,  the  differences  within 
the  attribute  of  extension  are  inconsistent  with  the 
unity  of  the  attribute,  and  vice  versa ;  and  the  notion 
of  inertia  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  his  system  of 
physics  is  added  empirically,  and  without  explanation, 
to  his  system. 

As  every  attribute  expresses  the  whole  of  existence, 
every  form  under  the  one  attribute  must  correspond 


214         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

with  a  form  under  the  other  attribute.  There  is  a  corre- 
spondence between  grades  of  individuality  in  the  attri- 
bute of  extension  and  ideas  in  the  attribute  of  thought. 
His  postulate  about  the  human  body  is,  that  it  "is 
composed  of  a  number  of  individual  parts  of  diverse 
nature,  each  one  of  which  is  in  itself  extremely  com- 
plex." To  each  of  these  there  is  a  corresponding  idea. 
Mind  and  body  are  one  and  the  same  mode  of  sub- 
stance, and  that  which  under  the  attribute  of  exten- 
sion are  modes  of  motion  appear  under  the  attribute 
of  thought  as  forms  of  thought.  The  human  body  is 
affected  by  bodies  external  to  it,  and  affects  them,  and 
the  mind  perceives  the  interaction;  but  he  will  not 
permit  us  to  say  that  the  mind  influences  the  body  or 
the  body  the  mind.  Body  is  influenced  by  body,  and 
the  action  of  the  mind  is  limited  to  thinking.  The 
belief  that  the  mind  can  set  the  body  in  motion  really 
means  that  we  do  not  know  how  such  motion  has 
arisen.  He  will  not  explain  mental  phenomena  by 
material,  or  the  reverse.  Each  goes  along  by  itself. 
But  he  uses  the  postulated  parallelism  of  the  two  to 
throw  light  on  many  problems.  "The  idea  of  every 
mode  in  which  the  human  body  is  affected  by  external 
bodies  must  involve  the  nature  of  the  human  body, 
and  also  the  nature  of  the  external  body  "  (Prop.  16). 
In  modern  language,  every  sensation  answers  to  a 
bodily  condition,  and,  indeed,  to  the  nature  of  both 
bodies.  The  affection  will  continue,  until  the  human 
body  is  affected  in  such  a  way  as  to  exclude  the  existence 
or  the  presence  of  the  external  body.  By  the  associa- 
tion of  ideas  the  mind  is  able  to  regard  as  present 
external  bodies,  though  they  be  no  longer  in  existence 
or  present.     The  association  of  ideas  corresponds  to  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  215 

law  of  motion  in  the  sphere  of  extension.  But  laws  of 
association  are  not  laws  of  thought  proper,  for  thought 
proper  regards  things  suh  specie  cetemitatis.  We  may 
note  here  the  explanation  of  memory.  "  It  is  simply 
a  certain  association  of  ideas  involving  the  nature 
of  things  outside  the  human  body,  which  association 
arises  in  the  mind  according  to  the  order  and  asso- 
ciation of  the  affections  of  the  human  body "  (Elwes, 
p.  100). 

Thus  imagination  and  memory  resemble  each  other. 
We  can  imagine  a  body  to  be  present  even  though  it 
is  not  acting  on  us,  and  we  can  recall  a  mental  picture 
of  an  external  object  without  its  actual  presence.  The 
mind  knows  the  body  and  its  existence  only  through 
ideas  of  an  affection  of  the  body ;  the  knowledge  of  our 
own  body  is  primary,  and  the  idea  of  an  external  body 
is  through  an  affection  of  our  body,  for  the  "  order  and 
connection  of  ideas  is  the  same  as  the  order  and 
connection  of  causes."  In  imagination  we  picture 
states  of  our  own  bodies,  and  interpret  them  as  results 
of  the  action  of  external  bodies.  Strictly,  ideas  of  the 
modifications  are  those  which  involve  the  nature  of 
the  human  body  and  of  external  bodies ;  they  do  not 
answer  to  that  concatenation  of  ideas  which  arise  from 
the  order  of  the  intellect,  whereby  the  mind  perceives 
things  in  their  primary  causes,  and  which  in  all  men  is 
the  same.  The  content  of  the  imaginative  experience 
arranges  itself  according  to  the  disposition  of  the 
individual.  This  experience  Spinoza  calls  "  Cognitio 
primi  generis,  opinio,  vel  imaginatio."  In- the  course  of 
description  of  the  notions  which  are  common  to  all  men 
he  has  occasion  to  mention  those  which  belong  only  to 
the  individual,  and  he  gives  a  short  account  of  them. 


2i6         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

Not  to  omit  anything  necessary  to  be  known,  he  sets 
down  causes  whence  are  derived  the  terms  called 
transcendental,  such  as  ens,  res,  aliqitid.  These  may 
be  described  as  universals  of  imaginative  experience. 
The  human  body,  being  limited,  can  only  form  a 
certain  number  of  images  ;  if  this  number  be  exceeded 
the  outline  will  become  blurred,  and  the  images  become 
confused.  The  images  being  confused  in  the  body,  the 
mind  confusedly  imagines,  and  will  comprehend  them 
under  one  attribute,  being,  thing,  and  so  on.  Similarly 
arise  general  notions,  such  as  man,  horse,  dog ;  they 
arise  from  the  fact  that  so  many  images,  for  instance, 
of  men,  are  formed  simultaneously  in  the  human  mind 
that  the  powers  of  imagination  break  down,  not  indeed 
entirely,  but  to  the  extent  of  losing  count  of  small 
differences  between  individuals,  and  the  mind  invents  a 
predicate  to  express  something  which  an  infinite  number 
of  individuals  possess  in  common.  He  recapitulates 
what  he  said  thus :  "  From  all  that  has  been  said  it  is 
clear  that  we  in  many  cases  perceive  and  form  our 
general  notions : — 1.  From  particular  things  represented ' 
to  our  intellect  fragmentarily,  confusedly,  and  without 
order  through  our  senses ;  I  have  settled  to  call  such 
perceptions,  Cognitiones  ab  experientia  vaga.  2.  From 
symbols ;  for  example,  from  the  fact  of  having  read  or 
heard  certain  words  we  remember  things  and  form 
certain  ideas  concerning  them  similar  to  those  through 
which  we  imagine  things.  I  shall  call  both  these  ways 
of  regarding  things  knowledge  of  the  first  kind, 
opinion,  or  imagination.  3.  From  the  fact  that  we 
have  notions  common  to  all  men,  and  adequate  ideas  of 
the  properties  of  things ;  this  I  call  reason  and  know- 
ledge of  the  second  kind.     Besides  these  two  kinds  of 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  217 

knowledge  there  is  a  third  kind  of  knowledge,  which 
we  will  call  intuition  "  (Elwes,  p.  113). 

We  have  already  seen  what  Spinoza  means  by 
imaginative  experience.  It  has  its  value ;  in  fact, 
according  to  him,  the  knowledge  of  the  great  majority 
of  men,  the  knowledge  of  everyday  life,  is  of  this  kind. 
If  we  are  aware  that  these  experiences  are  imaginative, 
if  we  imagine  things  as  vividly  as  if  they  were  present, 
that  may  be  an  advantage ;  the  error  arises  when  we 
think  they  are  present  because  we  imagine  them 
vividly.  We  make  mistakes  also  in  the  interpretations 
of  our  perceptions,  as  when  we  misjudge  distance,  and 
so  on.  As  regards  this  sphere  of  imaginative  experi- 
ence, Spinoza  makes  it  very  extensive,  and  its  influence 
very  great.  From  it  men  can  only  have  a  partial 
knowledge  of  themselves,  their  bodies,  and  of  external 
bodies,  and  men  mistake  this  vague  and  fragmentary 
knowledge  for  knowledge  in  its  completeness.  It  is  this 
mainly  that  prevents  men  from  obtaining  a  knowledge 
of  the  eternal  and  necessary  order  of  things ;  each  man 
shuts  himself  up  in  that  partial  knowledge  which 
comes  from  imagination,  and  the  partial  swallows  up 
the  opportunity  of  the  whole.  It  is  needless  to  dwell 
on  it,  though  Spinoza  does  so  at  great  length.  In 
some  respects  it  is  a  fruitful  and  instructive  discussion, 
but  when  Spinoza  sets  down  all  the  applications  of  our 
moral  ideals  to  the  universal  substance  as  instances  of 
the  undue  use  of  the  imagination  we  may  without  dis- 
cussion demur. 
^  1  Briefly,  he  calls  knowledge  of  the  first  kind  the  only 
'  source  of  falsity,  while  knowledge  of  the  second  and 
third  kinds  is  necessarily  true,  and  enables  us  to  dis- 
tinguish the  true  from  the  false.     To  have  a  true  idea 


2i8         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

is  to  know  that  we  have  a  true  idea,  and  to  doubt  the 
truth  of  it  is  impossible.  Can  we  attain  to  true  and 
adequate  ideas  ?  Yes,  for  there  is  a  concatenation  of 
ideas  which  exists  according  to  the  order  of  the 
intellect,  by  which  the  mind  perceives  things  through 
first  causes :  and  which  is  the  same  in  all  men. 
If  we  can  discover  among  the  idese  of  the  bodily 
affections  some  which  are  adequate,  these  will  form 
the  basis  of  true  and  valid  scientific  inference.  One 
criterion  is  that  they  must  be  "  the  same  for  all  men." 
They  must  therefore  be  the  outcome  of  the  mind 
itself,  and  the  product  of  its  activity.  Here  we  are 
brought  back  to  the  fundamental  principle  of  the 
philosophy,  the  reference  to  the  intelligence  of  God  so 
far  as  He  constituted  the  minds  of  an  infinite  number 
of  finite  things.  If  we  grasp  this  thought,  truly  we 
shall  find  that  the  perception  of  a  part  of  the  universal 
property  will  give  us  an  adequate  idea  of  it,  for  the 
part  is  part  of  the  whole.  For  modes,  whether  of 
extension  or  of  thought,  must  present  in  all  their  parts 
and  as  wholes  certain  identical  and  uniform  properties. 
Corporeal  nature  is  one,  and  being  one  it  has  certain 
properties,  and  these  properties  give  us  the  axioms 
of  mathematics  and  physics.  These  common  notions 
which  all  men  share  are  the  starting-point  of  objective 
and  universal  knowledge ;  scientific  knowledge  are  these 
communes  notiones  which  express  the  common  pro- 
perties of  things,  and  in  his  own  words  they  are,  "  Res, 
quas  clare  et  distincte  intelligimus,  vel  rerum  communes 
proprietates  sunt,  vel  quae  ix  iis  deducunter."- 

Axioms  and  deductions  from  them,  adequate  ideas  of 
notions  common  to  all  men  and  reasoned  inferences 
from  them,  is  science  according  to  Spinoza.     And  the 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  219 

Ethics  is  just  the  exhibition  of  such  knowledge.  The 
demonstrations  from  the  Notiones  communes  are  just 
as  good  as  the  notions  themselves,  for  "Mentis  enim 
oculi,  quibus  res  videt  observatque,  sunt  ipsae  demonstra- 
tiones."  But  reason  regards  things  sub  specie  ceternitatis, 
and  such  regard  has  reference  not  to  contingent  things 
but  to  necessary ;  that  is  to  say,  it  has  regard  not  to 
any  particular  thing  in  its  particularity,  but  to  those 
necessary  properties  which  all  things  have  in  common, 
and  to  the  common  notions  which  all  men  have  of 
them.  We  pass  from  the  imaginative  view  of  the 
world,  which  has  regard  to  the  world  of  things  in 
their  variety,  colour,  and  changeableness,  and  we  have 
to  look  at  the  world  as  a  system  of  necessary  laws, 
to  which  time  has  no  reference.  Thus  for  Spinoza 
scientific  thought  leaves  on  one  side  all  the  manifold- 
ness  of  the  world,  gives  no  explanation  of  the  "  thing- 
hood  "  of  things,  nor  of  how  these  unite  in  the  order  of 
the  whole.  Individuality,  which  has  significance  for 
him  when  he  comes  to  speak  of  the  Conatus  sese  con- 
servandi,  has  no  meaning  for  scientific  thought  in  its 
contemplation  of  the  eternal  order.  Science  abstracts 
from  local  and  temporal  conditions,  and  while  it  may 
deal  with  something  real  it  is  still  abstract,  and  can 
give  no  adequate  account  of  concrete  experience. 

"  It  is  in  the  nature  of  reason  to  perceive  things  suh 
quddarn  cetevnitatis  specie!'  So  in  the  second  corollary 
of  Proposition  44.  The  proof  is  worth  quoting.  "  It  is 
in  the  nature  of  things  to  regard  things  not  as  contin- 
gent, but  as  necessary.  Reason  perceives  this  necessity 
of  things  truly,  that  is,  as  it  is  in  itself.  But  this 
necessity  of  things  is  the  very  necessity  of  the  eternal 
nature  of  God ;  therefore  it  is  in  the  nature  of  reason  to 


220         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

regard  things  under  this  form  of  eternity.  We  may 
add,  that  the  bases  of  reason  are  the  notions  which 
answer  to  things  common  to  all,  and  which  do  not 
answer  to  the  essence  of  any  particular  thing ;  which 
must  therefore  be  conceived  without  any  relation  to 
time,  under  a  certain  form  of  eternity"  (Elwes,  p.  117). 
Thus  we  are  led  to  the  conclusions  that  every  idea 
of  every  body,  or  of  every  thing  actually  existing, 
necessarily  involves  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence  of 
God,  and  that  the  knowledge  of  the  eternal  and 
infinite  essence  of  God,  which  every  idea  involves,  is 
adequate  and  perfect,  and  so  the  human  mind  has  an 
adequate  knowledge  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  essence 
of  God.  He  has  not  explained  how  the  particularity 
of  particular  things  which  is  neglected  in  the  common 
notions  is  still  valid  as  involving  the  eternal  and 
necessary  existence  of  God.  These  are  only  side  by 
side.  The  particularity  which  is  without  significance 
for  common  notions  must  be  brought  back  somehow, 
and  it  reappears,  as  it  had  disappeared,  because  Spinoza 
cannot  do  without  it. 

But  perhaps  the  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  the  third 
kind  of  knowledge  of  which  he  spoke  in  the  Scholium 
to  Proposition  40.  In  the  Scholium  to  Proposition  47 
he  says :  "  Hence  we  see  that  the  infinite  essence 
and  the  eternity  of  God  are  known  to  all.  Now, 
as  all  things  are  in  God,  and  are  conceived  through 
God,  we  can  from  this  knowledge  infer  many  things 
which  we  may  adequately  know,  and  we  may  form 
that  third  kind  of  knowledge  of  which  we  spoke " 
(Elwes,  p.  118).  In  Part  V.  Proposition  36,  Scholium,  he 
says :  "  Since  the  essence  of  our  minds  consists  solely 
in  knowledge,  whereof  the  beginning  and  the  founda- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  221 

tion  is  God,  it  becomes  clear  to  us  in  what  way  our 
mind,  as  to  its  essence  and  existence,  follows  from 
the  divine  nature  and  constantly  depends  on  God. 
I  have  thought  it  worth  while  here  to  call  attention 
to  this  in  order  to  show  by  this  example  how  the 
knowledge  of  particular  things,  which  I  have  called 
intuitive  or  of  the  third  kind,  is  potent  and  more 
powerful  than  the  universal  knowledge  which  I 
have  styled  knowledge  of  the  second  kind."  Into 
this  we  shall  not  enter  further,  for  this  kind  of 
knowledge  is  possible  only  to  a  mind  which  is  at 
the  centre,  and  to  which  the  whole  of  reality  is  open. 
This  part  of  the  Ethics  ends  with  a  discussion  of  free 
will,  and  a  demonstration  that  will  and  understand- 
ing are  one  and  the  same.  "  In  the  mind  there  is  no 
absolute  or  free  will,  but  the  mind  is  determined  to 
wish  this  or  that  by  cause,  which  has  been  determined 
by  another  cause,  and  so  on  to  infinity  "  (Prop.  48).  There 
is  in  the  mind  no  volition  or  affirmation  or  negation 
save  that  which  an  idea,  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  idea, 
involves ;  these  are  the  propositions  which  end  the 
second  part,  and  to  Spinoza  they  are  so  important 
that  he  devotes  a  few  pages  to  the  establishment  of 
them,  and  to  criticisms  of  their  opposites. 

Will  and  understanding  are  nothing  beyond  the 
individual  volitions  and  ideas ;  so  Spinoza,  anticipating 
Hume,  says ;  and  a  particular  idea  and  a  particular 
volition  are  one  and  the  same,  therefore  will  and 
understanding  are  one  and  the  same.  The  will  and 
the  understanding  are  for  Spinoza  mere  abstract 
terms,  and  have  reality  only  in  particular  ideas  and 
volitions.  It  may  be  frankly  admitted  that  the  dis- 
tinction  between   will   and   understanding  has  often 


222         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

been  made  too  absolute,  and  that  the  faculty  doctrine 
has  been  sometimes  so  emphatically  expressed  that 
men  have  lost  sight  of  the  unity  of  mental  life.  It 
is  well  to  be  reminded  that  there  is  something  in 
common  in  understanding  and  will,  if  nothing  more 
than  that  they  are  activities  of  the  same  subject. 
But  they  are  different  forms  of  activity,  and  must 
be  distinguished  so  far  as  they  are  different.  Spinoza 
disregards  the  unity  of  the  mental  life,  and  for  him 
unity  is  not  to  be  sought  or  found  in  man,  but  in 
God.  From  that  point  of  view  it  is  possible  to  dis- 
regard the  testimony  of  consciousness,  and  to  refuse 
to  regard  the  synthetic  unity  of  apperception  as 
a  necessary  source  of  explanation  of  our  mental 
life  and  of  the  unity  of  our  experience.  We  do 
obtain  a  certain  kind  of  unity,  but  it  has  the  dis- 
advantage of  being  out  of  relation  to  our  experience. 
For  every  explanation  of  experience  postulates  in 
some  sense  a  unitary  centre  to  which  all  our  experi- 
ence is  referred.  No  doubt  it  has  been  said  that 
volition  is  only  the  self-realisation  of  an  idea,  but 
that  is  to  substitute  the  idea  for  the  self  as  the  source 
of  the  explanation  of  the  unity  of  our  mental  life. 
It  is  a  hard  question  to  answer,  how  far  Spinoza 
recognises  a  unity  of  our  mental  life,  or  a  subject  as 
the  bearer  of  an  experience.  How  far  he  could 
recognise  ideals  as  a  source  of  action  can  hardly  be 
decided,  for  in  one  sense  he  admits  them  and  in 
another  sense  he  denies  them.  At  all  events,  the 
identification  of  will  and  understanding  cannot  be 
maintained,  for  they  are  different,  and  represent 
various  functions  within  the  unity  of  our  mental  life. 
We  shall  come  across  another  definition  of  the  will 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  223 

when  we  follow  Spinoza  into  the  third  part  of  the 
Ethics,  which  cannot  easily  be  explained  as  consistent 
with  the  proposition  that  intellect  and  will  are  one 
and  the  same.  "  Hie  conatus,  cum  ad  mentem  solam, 
refertur,  voluntas  apellatur,  sed  cum  ad  mentem  et 
corpus  simul  refertur,  vocatur  appetitus ;  qui  proinde 
nihil  aliud  est  quam  ipsa  hominis  essentia,  ex  cujus 
natura  ea,  quaB  ipsius  conservationi  inserviunt, 
necessario  sequuntur;  atque  adeo  homo  ad  eadem 
agendum  determinatus  est.  Deinde  inter  appetitum 
et  cupiditatem  nulla  est  differentia,  nisi  quod  cupiditas 
ad  homines  plerumque  referatur,  quatenus  sui  appe- 
titus sunt  conscii,  et  propterea  sic  definiri  potest, 
nempe  cupiditas  est  appetitus  cum  ejusdem  con- 
scientia.  Constat  itaque  ex  his  omnibus,  nihil  nos 
conari,  velle,  appetere,  neque  cupere,  quia  ad  bonum 
esse  judicamus;  sed  contra,  nos  propterea  aliquid 
bonum  esse  judicare,  quia  id  conamur,  volumus,  appet- 
imus,  atque  cupimus"  (Part  HI.  Prop.  9,  Scholium). 
Thus  ideas  are  dependent  on  impulse  and  will ;  will  is 
no  longer  identical  with  the  understanding,  for  will  is 
the  conscious  impulse  towards  self-preservation. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Last  Three  Books  of  the  Ethics — The  Gonatus  sese  conservandi 
— Its  Meaning  and  its  Consequences — Pleasure  and  Pain — 
The  Primary  Emotions  and  their  Derivatives — Description 
and  Appreciation — Ethical  Judgments  illusive — Good — 
Utility — Timeless  Causation — The  Vanishing  of  Emotion — 
Social  Ethics— The  State— The  third  Kind  of  Knowledge— 
The  Intellectual  Love  of  God — Immortality — Place,  Blessed- 
ness, and  Virtue. 

The  three  last  books  of  the  Ethics  are  of  great  import- 
ance in  their  place  in  the  system  of  Spinoza,  and  also 
in  themselves,  for  they  contain  some  of  the  most 
fruitful  and  most  valuable  work  he  has  done.  The 
third  book  deals  with  the  origin  and  nature  of  the 
emotions  (affectum),  the  fourth  book  with  the  bondage 
of  man,  and  the  fifth  with  the  freedom  of  man.  Our 
waning  space  compels  us  to  condense,  and  our  account 
of  these  books  must  be  extremely  brief. 

The  psychology  of  the  feelings  may  be  studied  apart 
from  the  implications  of  his  system,  and  in  a  measure 
ought  to  be  so.  For  the  account  of  the  rise  and 
growth  of  the  emotions  is  an  independent  study,  and, 
while  he  finds  it  necessary  to  make  reference  now 
and  then  to  the  one  substance,  these  are  more  formal 
than  real.  He  begins  by  stating  that  he  is  to  approach 
the  study  of  the  emotions  in  a  purely  scientific  spirit, 

224 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  225 

that  he  is  to  study  them  with  an  impartiality  as 
great  as  that  with  which  he  studies  geometrical 
forms.  He  is  not  to  praise  or  blame,  not  to  despise 
or  mourn  over  them ;  he  seeks  to  understand  them. 
uHe  does  not  regard  them  as  of  the  same  kind,  or  on 
the  same  level  as  geometrical  forms ;  he  means  only 
that  they  are  caused,  are  intelligible,  and  may  be 
understood ;  but  the  causes  in  operation  are  not  iden- 
tical with  the  causes  which  explain  figures  in 
geometry. 

The  quotation  at  the  close  of  the  foregoing  chapter 
seems  to  indicate  that  we  have  to  change  our  view 
when  we  pass  from  the  first  two  books  of  the  Ethics 
to  the  last  three.  The  first  two  books  culminated 
in  the  identification  of  understanding  and  will. 
Will  is  the  affirmation  or  negation  of  the  idea,  and 
ideas  represent  the  activity  of  the  mind.  When  he 
comes  to  the  study  of  the  emotional  nature  of  man 
he  finds  some  phenomena  which  are  not  consistent 
with  the  view  that  it  is  ideas  which  determine  the 
phenomena  of  mental  life.  Why  are  we  active  ?  Is 
it  from  a  desire  for  good  ?  In  the  foregoing  quotation 
we  are  told :  "  We  do  not  strive  for,  wish,  seek,  nor 
desire  anything  because  we  judge  it  to  be  good  ;  we 
judge  it  to  be  good  because  we  strive  for,  wish,  seek, 
or  desire  it."  Ideas  flow  from  the  striving,  and  are 
the  efiect  of  them ;  in  other  words,  voluntas  is  the 
prior,  and  intellectus  flows  from  it,  and  that  relation 
cannot  be  a  relation  of  identity. 

The  Conatus  sese  conservandi  is  the  expression  of 

the  nature  of  every  individual  thing.     This  conatus 

is  the  form  which  the  infinite  divine  activity  in   all 

existence  takes  when  it  is  embodied  in  any  individual, 

15 


226         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

and  it  takes  on  the  form  which  is  the  nature  of 
each  individual  thing.  It  is  one  thing  as  expressed 
in  the  law  of  inertia,  it  is  another  thing  in  more 
complex  natures,  but  everywhere  existence  is  self- 
conservation.  Appetitus  attended  with  consciousness 
is  desire,  and  although  this  is  somewhat  doubtful  it 
is  possible  that  Spinoza  does  make  consciousness  to 
be  an  element  in  the  effort  towards  self-conservation. 
'  Desire  from  the  mental  side  is  will ;  when  referred  to 
mind  and  body  in  conjunction  it  is  called  appetitus. 

Of  great  significance  is  the  view  of  pleasure  and 
pain,  and  of  the  part  they  play  in  life.  "  We  see 
that  the  mind  can  undergo  many  changes,  and  can 
pass  now  to  a  greater  and  now  to  a  less  state  of 
perfection,  which  passive  states  (passiones)  explain 
to  us  the  emotions  of  pleasure  and  pain.  By  pleasure 
therefore,  here  and  in  the  following  propositions,  I 
shall  understand  the  passion  by  which  the  mind 
passes  to  a  great  perfection,  and  by  pain  (tristitiam) 
that  by  which  it  passes  to  a  less  perfection"  (Prop.  11, 
Scholium).  Pleasure,  pain,  and  desire  are  the  three 
primary  emotions;  beyond  these  three  he  recognises 
no  primary  eftiotions,  and  from  these  he  undertakes 
to  show  how  all  other  emotions  are  derived.  Let  it 
be  noted  that  the  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain  arise 
from  the  transition  from  one  state  to  another,  and 
feeling  is  supposed  to  answer  to  a  change  of  condition. 

Pleasure  accompanies  furtherance  of  life,  and  pain 
is  the  sign  that  life  is  hindered.  It  would  be  of 
interest,  had  we  time,  to  trace  the  steps  by  which 
Spinoza  traces  the>«volution  of  specific  kinds  of  feel- 
ing from  the  primary  emotions  of  pleasure,  pain,  and 
desire.      The   principle   of    association    is   ducidated. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  227 

drawn  upon,  and  the  chemistry  of  the  growth  of 
feeling  is  set  forth  so  as  to  be  a  permanent  gain 
to  psychology.  Love  and  hatred  are  explained  by 
the  fact  that  we  love  what  gives  us  pleasure,  we 
hate  what  gives  us  pain.  The  evolution  of  the 
emotions  of  hope,  fear,  and  confidence,  of  emulation, 
gratitude,  benevolence,  anger,  revenge,  cruelty,  timidity, 
daring,  cowardice  is  explained,  and  their  evolution 
out  of  the  primary  desires  and  emotions  is  described 
in  a  most  suggestive  and  instructive  manner.  Here 
Spinoza  is  on  the  level  of  ordinary  human  experience, 
and  has  helped  us  greatly  to  understand  the  evolution 
of  our  mental  life.  The  point  where  dijfficulty  may 
be  felt  is  how  we  are  to  connect  what  he  calls  the 
primary  emotions  with  the  fundamental  proposition 
of  his  psychology,  namely,  the  Conatus  sese  con- 
servandi,%.'with.  the — pi^imflTFy^  -emetion^;  Take  the 
primary  emotions  and  the  law  of  association,  and 
we  can  understand  the  conditions  of  the  growth  of 
feeling;  but  whether  these  primary  emotions  can  be 
understood  from  the  simple  principle  of  self-conserva- 
tion is  another  question,  which  is  too  large  for  dis- 
cussion here. 

Something  might  be  said  of  the  account  of  the  moral 
emotions  given  by  Spinoza,  which  we  think  to  be 
inadequate.  "  Repentance  is  pain  accompanied  by 
the  idea  of  some  action,  which  we  believe  we  have 
performed  by  the  free  decision  of  our  mind  "  (Elwes, 
p.  179).  In  the  explanation  attached  to  the  proposi- 
tion he  says:  "This  is  perhaps  the  place  to  call 
attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is  nothing  wonderful 
that  all  these  actions  which  are  commonly  called 
wrong  are  followed  by  pain,  and  all  those  which  are 


228         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

called  Hght  are  followed  by  pleasure.  We  can  easily 
gather  from  what  has  been  said  that  this  depends 
in  great  measure  on  education.  Parents,  by  repro- 
bating the  former  class  of  actions,  and  by  frequently 
chiding  their  children  because  of  them,  and  also  by  per- 
suading to  and  praising  the  latter  class,  have  brought 
it  about,  that  the  former  should  be  associated  with 
pain  and  the  latter  with  pleasure"  (Elwes,  p.  179). 
It  is  not  a  sufficient  explanation  of  repentance,  or 
of  right  and  wrong.  He  points  out  certain  elements 
in  the  complex  experience  indicated  by  these  terms, 
but  the  course  of  ethical  thought  up  to  the  present 
time  proves  that  he  has  not  taken  account  of  all  the 
,  elements  of  moral  experience. 
/  For  one  thing,  Spinoza  could  not  do  full  justice  to 
the  ethical  experience  of  man,  because  he  had  denied 
the  category  of  time,  and  did  not  allow  to  time  any 
positive  content  or  value.  He  expressly  denies  to  our 
appreciation  any  objective  value.  If  all  human  ac- 
tivity of  thought  can  be  exhausted  in  the  two  functions 
of  description  and  appreciation,  as  it  is  the  tendency 
of  modern  thought  to  affirm,  then  by  Spinoza  the  work 
of  description  is  the  work  of  reason,  and  the  work  of 
appreciation  is  the  work  of  imagination.  Apprecia- 
tion arises  in  a  w^orld  in  which  freedom  has  a  real 
meaning,  in  which  change,  opposition,  genesis,  growth 
are  real,  and  in  which  judgments  of  worth  are  of  value. 
The  process  of  evolution  must  be  a  real  process,  and 
the  judgment  as  to  the  worth  of  the  process  must  be 
of  some  value.  But  ethical  distinctions  and  ethical 
judgments  are  of  no  significance  within  the  Natura 
naturans;  if  they  are  to  have  significance,  they  can 
obtain  a  footing  only  within  the  Natura  naUirata. 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  229 

Even  within  the  Natura  naturata  appreciations  have 
only  a  relative  value.  We  have  to  bear  this  in  mind 
as  we  proceed  to  read  the  ethical  definitions  and  de- 
scriptions set  forth  in  the  fourth  part  of  the  Ethics. 
"  By  good  I  mean  that  which  we  certainly  know  to  be 
useful  to  us.  By  evil  I  mean  that  which  we  certainly 
know  to  be  a  hindrance  to  us  in  the  attainment  of  any 
good ;  particular  things  I  call  contingent  in  so  far  as, 
while  regarding  their  essence  only,  we  find  nothing 
therein  which  necessarily  asserts  their  existence  or 
excludes  it.  Particular  things  I  call  possible  in  so  far 
as,  while  regarding  the  causes  whereby  they  must  be 
produced,  we  know  not  whether  such  causes  be  deter- 
mined for  producing  them.  By  an  end,  for  the  sake 
of  which  we  do  something,  I  mean  a  desire.  By  virtue 
and  power  I  mean  the  same  thing,  that  is,  virtue,  in  so 
far  as  it  is  referred  to  man,  is  a  man's  nature  or  essence, 
in  so  far  as  it  has  the  power  of  effecting  what  can 
only  be  understood  by  the  laws  of  that  nature " 
(Elwes,  pp.  190,  191). 

The  notion  of  good  is  defined  in  relation  to  utiUtas, 
and  evil  is  only  a  hindrance  to  the  attainment  of  good. 
There  is  such  a  thinor  as  End,  but  the  end  for  which 
we  do  something  is  desire.  Thus  we  are  allowed  in  a 
sense  to  move  within  the  world  of  time  "  change,"  and 
to  foresee  ends  and  act  on  them,  and  to  attach  a  mean- 
ing to  ethical  terms ;  and  sometimes  we  are  permitted 
to  lose  sight  of  the  scheme  of  causation,  and  to  regard 
other  kinds  of  causes  than  the  formal  cause.  We 
come  within  measurable  distance  of  being  allowed  to 
think  of  man  as  self -determining,  not  as  merely  deter- 
mined. The  Conatiis  se  conservandi  attains  to  some 
fulness  of  ethical  meaning,  and  may  be  understood  as 


230         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

the  attempt  to  free  ourselves  from  the  dominance  of 
the  feelings  and  passions  excited  within  us  by  some- 
thing merely  external  to  us. 

But  ever  and  anon  Spinoza  places  us  in  the  timeless 
scheme  of  causation,  and  we  are  constrained  to  regard 
the  evolution  of  our  emotions,  ideas,  and  conduct  as 
without  significance  in  the  intelligible  scheme  of  things. 
When  we  look  at  men  or  things  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  Conatus  sese  conservandi,  and  note  the  influence 
attributed  to  it  in  the  growth  of  mental  life,  we  feel 
that  we  are  in  a  real  world  and  that  w^e  are  really  in- 
terpreting human  experience ;  but  suddenly  the  scene 
changes,  and  we  are  reminded  that  this  has  no  real 
value  :  it  is  the  work  of  imagination.  Then  as  we  read 
we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  series  of  kaleidoscopic  changes, 
and  have  a  series  of  identifications  which  are  bewilder- 
ing. We  read  on  about  the  Conatus  sese  conservandi, 
and  we  find  that  "  Virtus  est  ipsa  humana  potentia,  qu88 
sola  hominis  essentia  definitur,  hoc  est,  quae  solo  conatu, 
quo  homo  in  suo  esse  persevarere  conatur,  definitur" 
(Prop.  20,  Part  IV.,  Demonstration).  And  in  the  corollary 
to  Prop.  22  we  are  assured  that  "  Conatus  sese  conser- 
vandi primum  et  unicum  virtutis  est  fundamentum."  We 
have  thus  only  to  trace  the  consequences  of  the  principle 
of  self -conservation  in  order  to  arrive  at  virtue.  But  we 
liave  to  make  this  consistent  with  Spinoza's  contention, 
that  the  real  nature  of  men  consists  in  pure  know- 
ledge. As  far  as  man  is  concerned,  it  must  lead  to  the 
conclusion  that  self-preservation  in  man  leads  to  the 
development  of  knowledge.  "  Rationis  essentia  nihil 
aliud  est  quam  mens  nostra,  quatenus  clare  et  distincte 
intelligit:  ergo  quicquid  ex  ratione  conamur,  nihil 
aliud  est  quam  intelligere.     Deinde  quoniam  hie  mentis 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  231 

conatus,  quatenus  ratiocinatur,  suum  esse  conatur  con- 
servare,  nihil  aliud  est  quam  intelligere ;  est  ergo  hie 
intelligendi  conatus  primum  et  unicum  virtutis  f  anda- 
mentuin,  nee  alicujus  finis  causa  res  intelligere  conab- 
imur ;  sed  contra  mens,  quatenus  ratiocinatur,  nihil  sibi 
bonum  esse  concipere  poterit  nisi  id,  quod  ad  intelli- 
gendum  conducit "  (Prop.  26).  Thus  we  have  two  foun- 
dations of  virtue,  each  of  which  has  the  distinction 
of  being  Primum  et  unicum,.  The  Conatus  sese  con- 
servandi  in  the  case  of  man  becomes  the  Conatus 
intelligendi,  and  man  becomes  a  pure  intelligence. 
Feeling,  emotion,  tends  to  disappear,  and  the  essence 
of  man  is  that  he  exists  in  order  to  understand.  This 
is  put  alongside  of  the  account  of  the  emotions,  which 
have '  been  treated  in  the  most  realistic  way,  as  some- 
thing positive,  and  as  real  powers  of  human  nature. 

He  had  told  us  that  emotion  can  only  be  destroyed 
or  controlled  by  another  emotion ;  in  other  words,  that 
pure  understanding  is  powerless  to  act  as  a  motive, 
and  he  had  further  told  us  that  there  are  emotions 
applicable  to  the  mind  as  active ;  and  here,  in  describ- 
ing the  second  foundation  of  virtue,  he  brings  us  back 
to  pure  intellectualism.  We  quote  from  the  Scholium 
from  Proposition  59,  Part  III. :  "All  actions  following  from 
emotion,  which  are  attributable  to  the  mind  in  virtue 
of  its  understanding,  I  set  down  to  strength  of  char- 
acter, which  I  divide  into  courage  and  highmindedness. 
By  courage,  I  mean  the  desire  whereby  every  man  strives 
to  preserve  his  own  being  in  accordance  solely  with 
the  dictates  of  reason  ;  by  highmindedness  I  mean  the 
desire  whereby  every  man  endeavours,  solely  under 
the  dictates  of  reason,  to  aid  other  men,  and  to  unite 
them  to  himself  in  friendship"  (Elwes,  pp.  171, 172). 


232         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

It  is  noticeable  that  the  language  of  Spinoza  is 
teleological  while  he  is  dealing  with  the  emotions,  and 
striving  to  explain  their  genesis  and  growth  from  the 
primary  emotions  of  pleasure,  pain,  and  desire.  As 
soon  as  he  makes  the  essence  of  man  to  be  pure  intel- 
ligence he  loses  sight  of  teleology  and  he  becomes 
^lilgtract,  and  his  system  loses  touch  with  experience. 

The  foregoing  quotation  contains  the  mode  of  transi- 
tion by  which  Spinoza  passes  from  individual  to  social 
ethics.  He  makes  the  transition  without  notice  and 
without  argument.  He  makes  no  endeavour  to  recon- 
cile egoism  and  altruism ;  indeed,  it  did  not  appear  to 
him  as  a  problem  to  be  discussed.  He  simply  says,  as 
a  matter  of  description  or  definition :  "  Eas  itaque 
actiones,  quae  solum  agentis  utile  intendunt,  ad  animos- 
itatem,  et  quae  alterius  etiam  utile  intendunt,  ad  gene- 
rositatem  refero"  (Part  III.,  Prop.  59,  Scholium).  It 
may  be  a  good  definition,  but  some  account  might  have 
been  given  of  how  the  Conatus  conservandi  can  be 
transformed  into  a  care  for  the  welfare  of  others. 
Apart  from  the  failure  to  recognise  that  there  is  a 
problem  to  be  solved,  the  social  side  of  his  Ethics  is 
worthy  of  the  highest  admiration.  Good  is  that  which 
is  in  harmony  with  our  nature,  and  from  its  very 
nature  it  must  be  a  common  good.  Men  are  active  in 
so  far  as  they  act  in  obedience  to  reason,  and  by  the 
laws  of  their  nature  they  desire  what  they  call  good 
and  seek  to  remove  what  they  consider  bad ;  and  so  far 
as  men  live  in  harmony  with  reason  they  necessarily  do 
such  things  as  are  good  for  human  nature,  and  therefore 
good  for  each  individual  man.  The  good  which  each 
follower  of  virtue  seeks  for  himself  he  will  desire  for 
others.     "  Deinde  cupiditas,  quatenus  ad  mentem  refer- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  233 

tur,  est  ipsa  mentis  essentia :  mentis  autem  essentia  in 
cognitione  consistit,  quse  involvit  Dei  cognitionem,  et 
sine  qua  nee  esse  nee  concipi  potest :  adeoque  quo  mentis 
essentia  majorem  Dei  cognitionem  involvit,  eo  cupiditas, 
qua  is,  qui  virtutem  sectatur,  bonum,  quod  sibi  appetit, 
alteri  cupit,  etiam  major  erit "  (Prop.  37,  Part  IV.).  We 
quote  this,  not  only  for  the  meaning,  but  also  becau 
contains  one  of  these  rapid  identifications  with  which 
Spinoza  bewilders  his  readers.  The  essence  of  the  mind 
is  desire,  and  the  essence  of  the  mind  is  knowledge.  In 
fact,  the  mind  has  too  many  essences  in  these  pages. 

Apart  from  that,  one  recognises  the  truth  and  great- 
ness of  Spinoza's  ethical  teaching  in  many  passages  of 
his  works.  He  teaches  that  the  good  is  a  common 
good,  and  what  a  man  desires  for  himself  and  loves  he 
will  love  more  constantly  if  he  sees  that  others  love  it 
also ;  he  will  endeavour  that  others  love  it  also,  and  as 
all  can  rejoice  in  the  common  good  he  will  strive  that 
they  all  rejoice  in  it.  "  To  man  there  is  nothing  more 
useful  than  man :  nothing,  I  say,  could  men  choose  for 
the  conservation  of  their  own  being  more  than  that  they 
should  all  agree  in  all  respects;  that  the  minds  and 
bodies  of  all  should  form,  as  it  were,  one  mind  and  one 
body,  and  all  at  the  same  time,  as  far  as  they  could, 
attempt  to  preserve  their  own  being,  and  all  at  the 
same  time  should  seek  for  themselves  the  common 
utility  of  all ;  from  which  it  follows  that  men  who 
are  governed  by  reason,  that  is,  men  who  under  the 
guidance  of  reason  seek  their  own  advantage,  desire 
for  themselves  nothing  which  they  do  not  also  desire 
for  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  so  are  just,  faithful,  and 
honourable"  (Part  IV.,  Prop.  18,  Scholium).  After  a 
description  of  the  man  who  has  made  himself  master  of 


234         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

himself,  or  of  the  man  who  is  ruled  by  reason  alone,  in  ■ 
which  he  tells  us  that  a  free  man  thinks  of  nothing 
less  than  of  death,  that  his  meditation  is  not  of  death, 
he  passes  on  to  a  vivid  description  of  the  man  who 
has  won  his  freedom.  On  this  we  do  not  dwell,  we 
say  only,  that  it  is  a  fascinating  picture  which  he  draws, 
and  one  well  worthy  of  our  study. 

At  this  stage  he  passes  on  to  the  study  of  the  State, 
and  his  ethical  study  is  united  to  his  political  philo- 
sophy. The  theory  of  the  State  is  merely  mentioned 
in  the  Ethics ;  it  is  developed  at  length  in  his  other 
works.  But  we  must  leave  his  political  and  theological 
works  untouched,  as  they  demand  a  work  devoted  to 
them  alone.  We  shall  give  only  one  quotation,  and 
pass  to  the  last  chapter  of  the  Ethics.  "  Every  man 
exists  by  sovereign  natural  right,  and  consequently,  by 
sovereign  natural  right,  performs  those  actions  which 
follow  from  the  necessity  of  his  own  nature ;  there- 
fore, by  sovereign  natural  right  every  man  judges 
what  is  good  and  what  is  bad,  takes  care  of  his  own 
advantage  according  to  his  own  disposition,  avenges 
the  wrongs  done  to  him,  and  endeavours  to  preserve 
what  he  loves  and  to  destroy  what  he  hates.  Now,  if 
man  lived  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  every  one 
would  remain  in  possession  of  this  his  right,  w^ithout 
any  injury  being  done  to  his  neighbour.  But,  seeing 
that  they  are  a  prey  to  their  emotions,  which  far 
surpass  human  power  or  virtue,  they  are  drawn  in 
different  directions,  and,  being  at  variance  one  with 
another,  stand  in  need  of  mutual  help.  Wherefore,  in 
order  that  men  may  live  together  in  harmony  and 
may  aid  one  another,  it  is  necessary  that  they  should 
forego  their  natural  right  and,  for  the  sake  of  security, 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  235 

refrain  from  all  actions  which  can  injure  their  fellow- 
men"  (Elwes,  p.  214).  He  lays  down  the  nature  and 
power  of  the  State,  and  the  ideas  on  which  it  is 
founded,  and  makes  the  following  ethical  deduction 
from  what  he  has  said  :  "  From  all  these  considerations 
it  is  evident  that  justice  and  injustice,  sin  and  merit, 
are  extrinsic  ideas,  and  not  attributes  which  display 
the  nature  of  the  mind  "  (Elwes,  p.  215). 

Passing  to  the  fifth  part  of  the  Ethics,  we  note  that 
the  view  of  knowledge,  which  was  rather  held  in 
abeyance  in  the  third  and  fourth  parts,  appears  in  all 
its  grandeur.  The  emotions  have  been  subdued,  are 
held  in  hand  at  least,  and  feeling  is  attenuated  almost 
to  nothingness.  We  have  ascended  to  the  whole,  have 
recognised  that  we  are  in  the  whole,  and  have  our 
place  and  function  in  it.  It  is  possible  for  man  to 
form  clear  and  distinct  conceptions,  and  properties 
which  are  common  to  all  things  can  be  conceived 
adequately.  It  follows  that  we  may  form  a  clear  and 
distinct  conception  of  every  emotion,  and  to  under- 
stand our  emotions  is  to  have  the  power  of  controlling 
them.  The  more  the  knowledge  that  things  are  neces- 
sary is  applied  to  particular  things,  the  greater  is  the 
power  of  the  mind  over  the  emotions.  The  emotions 
are  brought  under  control  in  proportion  as  we  under- 
stand them,  and  we  understand  them  in  so  far  as  we 
are  enabled  to  think  them  in  relation  to  their  causes, 
and  to  bring  them  under  the  conception  of  universal 
necessity.  Universal  necessity  lifts  us  out  of  our 
isolation,  and  enables  us  to  see  ourselves  as  included  in 
the  universal  Being,  and  one  with  God.  The  mind 
can  bring  it  about  that  all  bodily  modifications  or 
images  of  things  may  be  referred  to  the  idea  of  God. 


? 


236         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

The  next  step  is  swiftly  taken,  and  leads  us  into  one 
of  the  most  interesting  and  characteristic  positions  of 
the  philosophy  of  Spinoza.  It  unites  knowledge  with 
love.  "  He  who  clearly  and  distinctly  understands  him- 
self and  his  emotions  loves  God,  and  so  much  the  more 
as  he  the  more  understands  himself  and  his  emotions  " 
(Prop.  15,  Part  V.). 

At  one  step  we  pass  the  boundary  between  emotion 
and  knowledge,  and  in  a  phrase,  "  Amor  intellectualis 
Dei,"  we  unite  the  two.  We  look  back  to  Spinoza's 
definition  of  love,  and  we  find  it  to  be.  Love  is  pleasure, 
accompanied  with  the  idea  of  an  external  cause,  and 
we  can  find  no  way  of  transition  from  the  emotion  to 
the  intellect.  We  find  pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  our 
highest  activity,  which  is  the  exercise  of  thought,  and 
we  find  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  that  Being  who  is 
the  source  of  the  joy  with  which  knowledge  fills  us. 
But  Spinoza  has  not  explained  how  the  union  has 
taken  place.  For  love  has  the  idea  of  an  external 
cause  accompanying  it,  and  yet  in  the  highest  reach 
of  thought,  according  to  Spinoza,  externality  has  dis- 
appeared, and  we  are  one  with  God.  (in  truth,  Spinoza 
has  need  of  the  beautiful  conception  of  the  intellectual 
love  of  God,  and  he  makes  the  synthesis  without  ex- 
plaining it.  From  it  he  draws  significant  consequences. 
One  is  that  our  love  to  God  is  a  part  of  the  infinite 
love  with  which  God  loves  Himself.  God's  love  to 
man  and  man's  l#ve  t«  G«il  are  Ane  and  the  same. 
We  see  ourselves  and  all  things  sub  specie  ceternitatis. 
This  intellectual  love,  human  and  divine,  is  exalted,  till 
all  becoming  and  opposition  are  lost  sight  of,  and  we 
are  landed  in  a  mysticism  in  which  all  intelligible 
relations  have  vanished.     It  is  a  beautiful  thought  tliis 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  237 

of  intellectual  love ;  but  love  is  an  emotion,  and  emotion 
is  feeling,  and,  according  to  Spinoza's  psychology, 
feeling  arises  only  when  a  transition  takes  place. 
How,  then,  can  there  be,  on  his  own  showing,  a 
feeling  in  relation  to  a  timeless,  changeless  state  of 
things  ? 

He  develops  his  doctrine  of  knowledge  still  further, 
and  in  close  relation  with  this  evolution  is  his  doctrine 
of  immortality.  It  is  a  kind  of  conditional  immortality, 
and  it  depends  on  the  growth  of  the  individual  in 
knowledge.  "Our  mind,  in  so  far  as  it  knows  itself 
under  the  form  of  eternity,  has  to  that  extent  a  know- 
ledge of  God,  and  knows  that  it  is  in  God,  and  is 
conceived  through  God"  (Elwes,  p.  262).  The  third 
kind  of  knowledge,  namely,  intuitive  knowledge,  de- 
pends on  the  mind  so  far  as  the  mind  is  eternal.  We 
delight  in  this  kind  of  knowledge,  and  our  delight  is 
accompanied  by  the  idea  of  God  as  cause.  It  is  from 
this  third  kind  of  knowledge  that  the  intellectual  love 
of  God  necessarily  arises,  and  this  intellectual  love  of  God 
is  eternal.  "  The  power  of  the  mind  is  defined  by  know- 
ledge only,  and  its  infirmity  or  passion  is  defined  by  the 
privation  of  knowledge  only ;  it  therefore  follows  that 
the  mind  is  most  passive  whose  greatest  part  is  made 
up  of  inadequate  ideas,  so  that  it  may  be  characterised 
more  readily  by  its  passive  states  than  by  its  activities. 
On  the  other  hand,  that  mind  is  most  active  whose 
greatest  part  is  made  up  of  adequate  ideas,  so  that, 
although  it  may  contain  as  many  inadequate  ideas  as 
the  former  mind,  it  may  yet  be  more  easily  charac- 
terised by  ideas  attributable  to  human  virtue  than  by 
ideas  which  tell  of  human  infirmity  "  (Elwes;  p.  258). 
The  greater  the  number  of   adequate  ideas,  and  the 


238         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

fewer  the  number  of  inadequate  ideas  there  is  in 
any  mind,  the  greater  is  the  power  of  the  mind  to 
view  itself  sub  specie  ceternitatis.  Is  there,  then,  im- 
mortality ?  Yes ;  for  "  the  human  mind  cannot  be 
absolutely  destroyed  with  the  body,  but  there  remains 
something  of  it  which  is  eternal "  (Prop.  23,  Part  V.). 
We  cannot,  he  says,  assign  to  the  mind  duration  except 
while  the  body  endures.  "  Yet,  as  there  is  something 
notwithstanding  which  is  conceived  by  a  certain  eternal 
necessity  through  the  very  essence  of  God,  this  some- 
thing, which  appertains  to  the  essence  of  the  mind, 
will  necessarily  be  eternal "  (Elwes,  p.  259). 

We  may  quote  the  Scholium  to  Proposition  23  :  "  This 
idea,  which  expresses  the  essence  of  the  body  under  the 
form  of  eternity,  is,  as  we  have  said,  a  certain  mode 
of  thinking  which  belongs  to  the  essence  of  the  mind, 
and  is  necessarily  eternal.  Yet  it  is  not  possible  that 
we  should  remember  that  we  existed  before  our  body, 
for  our  body  can  bear  no  trace  of  such  existence, 
neither  can  eternity  be  defined  in  terms  of  time  or 
have  any  relation  to  time.  But,  notwithstanding,  we 
feel  and  know  that  we  are  eternal.  For  the  mind 
feels  those  things  that  it  can  conceive  by  understand- 
ing, no  less  than  those  things  that  it  remembers.  For 
the  eyes  of  the  mind,  whereby  it  sees  and  observes 
things,  are  none  other  than  proofs.  Thus,  although 
we  do  not  remember  that  we  existed  before  the  body, 
yet  we  feel  that  our  mind,  in  so  far  as  it  involves  the 
essence  of  the  body  under  the  form  of  eternity,  is 
eternal,  and  that  thus  its  existence  cannot  be  defined 
in  terms  of  time,  or  explained  through  duration " 
(Elwes,  p.  260). 

Thus  the  immortality  advocated  here  is  out  of  rela- 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  239 

tion  to  time.  That  part  of  the  mind  which  endures  is 
more  perfect  than  the  rest.  He  expressly  says  that 
"the  eternal  part  of  the  mind  is  the  understanding, 
and  the  perishable  part  is  the  imagination  "  (Prop.  40, 
Cor.).  In  other  words,  the  mind  endures  so  far  as  it 
is  active,  and  perishes  so  far  as  it  is  passive.  This 
brings  us  back  again  to  the  intellectual  view  that  only 
those  attain  to  immortality  who  rise  to  the  third  kind 
of  knowledge.  Those  who  become  organs  of  the  divine 
activity  of  thought  endure,  and  cannot  cease  to  be. 
He  has  hinted  that  eternal  persistence  may  mean  exist- 
ence before  the  body,  and  may  exist  after  it ;  but  he 
has  not  explained  how  growth  in  knowledge,  and  the 
attainment  of  the  third  kind  of  knowledge,  which  is  a 
process  taking  place  in  time  and  which  is  a  condition 
of  possible  immortality,  is  connected  with  eternal  per- 
sistence. 

As  if  conscious  that  his  peculiar  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality could  not  afford  a  foundation  for  conduct  for 
ordinary  people,  he  states  that,  "even  if  we  did  not 
know  that  our  mind  is  eternal,  we  should  still  consider 
as  of  primary  importance  piety  and  religion,  and 
generally  of  all  things  which,  in  Part  IV.,  we  showed 
to  be  attributable  to  courage  and  high-mindedness " 
(Prop.  41).  In  the  proof  he  says:  "The  first  and  only 
foundation  of  virtue,  or  the  rule  of  right  living,  is 
seeking  one's  own  interest.  Now,  in  order  to  deter- 
mine what  reason  describes  as  useful,  we  took  no 
account  of  the  mind's  eternity.  Although  we  were 
ignorant  at  that  time  that  the  mind  is  eternal,  we 
nevertheless  stated  that  the  qualities  attributable  to 
courage  and  high-mindedness  are  of  primary  import- 
ance.    Therefore,   if   we   were   still   ignorant   of   this 


240         DESCARTES,    SPINOZA,    AND 

doctrine,  we  should  yet  put  the  aforesaid  precepts  of 
reason  in  the  first  place."  It  is  well,  for  the  eternity 
of  the  mind  turns  out  to  be  an  eternity  of  only  a  part 
of  the  mind,  and  it  is  an  eternity  only  for  that  mind 
which  attains  to  the  third  kind  of  knowledge. 

Blessedness  is  not  the  reward  of  virtue,  it  is  virtue 
itself ;  neither  do  we  rejoice  therein  because  we  control 
our  lusts :  but,  contrariwise,  because  we  rejoice  therein 
we  are  able  to  control  our  lusts.  Such  is  the  final 
proposition  of  this  memorable  book.  The  proof  of  the 
proposition  is  a  final  attempt  to  unite  love  and  know- 
ledge. For  blessedness  consists  in  love  towards  God, 
which  springs  from  the  third  kind  of  knowledge.  But 
the  more  the  mind  rejoices  in  this  love,  so  does  it  the 
more  understand.  Thus  the  love  increases  the  power 
to  understand,  and  the  increase  of  the  power  to  under- 
stand adds  to  the  power  of  loving.  The  mere  intel- 
lectualism  of  his  system  is  thus  redeemed  by  the 
practical  power  of  love,  and  feeling  has  found  a  place 
in  the  final  outcome.  It  is  a  question  whether  on  his 
system,  and  in  consistency  with  the  function  he  ascribes 
to  mere  thinking,  he  has  any  right  to  bring  in  love 
in  the  final  outcome.  But  if  we  do  not  see  how  he 
can  legitimately  bring  it  in,  we  are  glad  to  find  it 
there,  for  it  redeems  the  system  from  barrenness,  and 
gives  a  glow  of  sunset  colour  to  the  final  book  of  the 
Ethics. 

Spinoza  lays  stress  on  the  strenuous  mood.  Peace» 
blessedness,  virtue  are  to  be  won,  and  it  is  not  easy  to 
win  them.  The  concluding  paragraph  is  touching  and 
somewhat  pathetic.  "  If  the  way  which  I  have  pointed 
out  as  leading  to  this  result  seems  exceedingly  hard, 
it  may,  nevertheless,  be  discovered.     Needs  must  it  be 


THE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY  241 

hard,  since  it  is  so  seldom  found.  How  would  it  be 
possible,  if  salvation  were  ready  to  our  hand  and  could 
without  great  labour  be  found,  that  it  should  be  by 
almost  all  men  neo:lected  ?  But  all  thino^s  excellent  are 
as  difficult  as  they  are  rare"  (Elwes,  pp.  270,  271).  He 
has  not  made  it  easy  for  the  reader  of  his  philosophy. 
His  geometric  method  has  made  the  communication  of  his 
thought  to  the  reader  difficult,  and  the  machinery  resists 
the  communion  of  author  with  reader.  Much  is  to  be 
learned  of  him.  Even  his  doctrine  of  God  has  in  it 
elements  of  value  for  theists.  His  account  of  the  emo- 
tions has  permanent  worth,  and  his  remark  that  only 
by  emotion  can  we  control  emotion  is  of  the  highest 
value,  though  he  seems,  in  his  zeal  for  the  dominance 
of  knowledge,  to  forget  the  place  of  emotion  in  life. 
Yet  this  is  recognised  again  in  his  doctrine  of  the 
intellectual  love  of  God,  however  inconsistently  he  may 
have  brought  it  in.  But  the  main  difficulty  in  the 
acceptance  of  his  teaching,  from  an  ethical  point  of 
view,  is  that  it  is  an  ethic  for  philosophers  alone.  It 
neglects  the  common  man,  it  provides  no  way  of 
making  him  a  man  worth  saving.  The  practical 
problem  of  life, — how  to  make  bad  men  good  men, 
how  to  make  the  selfish  unselfish,  may  be  solved  by 
him,  but  the  solution  is  on  a  plane  out  of  the  sight 
of  the  common  man. 

Except  in  the  parts  which  deal  with  the  emotions 
it  cannot  be  said  that  the  system  of  Spinoza  is  an 
interpretation  of  experience.  The  way  in  which  he 
rules  out  moral  ideals  from  the  scheme  of  things,  the 
way,  too,  in  which  he  distinguishes  between  intellect 
in  man  and  in  God,  and  yet  continues  to  use  the  words 
as  if  we  could  attach  a  definite  meaning  to  the  idea  of 
16 


242  tHE    NEW    PHILOSOPHY 

infinite  intellect,  makes  it  impossible  for  us  to  know 
whether  he  has  a  meaning.  Still  further,  his  attempt 
to  get  rid  of  anthropomorphism  must  be  called  a  failure, 
for  his  limitation  of  the  attributes  of  God  to  Thought 
and  Extension  is  simply  anthropomorphic,  for  these 
are  only  human  attributes  magnified  beyond  measure, 
and  they  are  as  anthropomorphic  as  ethical  ideas  are. 
Still,  after  all  drawbacks,  Spinoza  must  be  reckoned 
among  the  great  thinkers  of  humanity.  He  had  a 
message  for  man,  and  by  life  and  speech  he  gave  his 
message,  and  it  is  our  business  to  take  from  it  as 
much  as  we  find  possible  for  us  in  these  days  of  ours. 


INDEX 


Adolphus,  Gustavus,  35. 
Analysis,  41,  42,  44. 
Anselm,  75,  81. 
Arabian  Philosophy,  11. 
Arguments  for  the  Being  of  God, 

75  g^  seq. 
Aristotle,  11,  180. 
Augustine,  3,  8,  9. 
Authority,  4,  12. 
Axiom,  65,  66,  ITQ  imssim. 

Bacon,  138,  141,  142. 

Beeckmann,  25,  31. 

Being,  Spinoza's  four  Kinds  of,  173. 

Berkeley,  51,  54. 

Boyle,  143. 

Bradley,  54. 

Brah^,  Tycho  de,  16. 

Bruno,  137. 

Burgh,  Albert,  140. 

Causality,   70,    71,   73,  76,   163. 

passim. 
Causes,  Final,  87,  190  et  seq.,  200, 

201. 
Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden,  35. 
Church,  2-6,  8,  9,  31. 
Circulation  of  the  Blood,  94,  97. 
Cogito,   ergo  sum,  47,    49,  50,  56, 

57,  64,  148  passim. 
Colerus,  144,  145. 
Conatus  sese  conservandi,  225-228 

et  seq. 
Consequent,   Reason  and, .  89,   90, 

I6i  passim. 


Conservation  of  Energy,  114,  122. 
Conservation  of  Matter,  114. 
Copernican  System,  18. 
Copernicus,  16. 
Cordemoy,  130. 
Cosmos,  34. 
Creed,  7. 
Crusades,  15. 

Darwin,  107. 

Descartes,  his  Problem,  8  ;  his 
Family,  22  ;  his  Birth,  22  ;  his 
Education,  23,  24  ;  his  Wander- 
ings, 25  ;  Residence  at  Breda,  26  ; 
his  Friends,  28 ;  Residence  in 
Holland,  29  ;  his  Visit  to  Sweden, 
35  ;  his  Death,  36  ;  his  Method, 
38  passim  ;  Cogito,  ergo  sum,  and 
the  use  of  it  by  Descartes,  56  et 
seq.  ;  his  Statement  of  the  Argu* 
ment  of  the  Existence  of  God,  76 
et  seq.  ;  his  Doctrine  of  Mechan- 
ism, 92  ;  his  Treatment  of  Final 
Causes,  87  ;  his  physical  Philo- 
sophy, 111  g^  seq. 

Determinism,  2Q1  passim. 

De  Witt,  145. 

Dorner,  148. 

Du  Bois-Reymond,  106. 

Edward,  Jonathan,  144. 
Effect,  Cause  and,  16  p)C('Ssim. 
Elector  Palatine,  144. 
Empiricism,  53. 
Entia  rationis,  177. 


243 


244 


INDEX 


Error,     Descartes'    idea    of,     83  ; 

Spinoza's  idea  of,  177  et  seq. 
Evolution,  118. 

Faith  and  Knowledge,  18. 

Fichte,  54. 

Fischer,  Kuno,  18,  32,  45. 

Galileo,  18,  31,  93. 

Geography,  15. 

Geometry,  41. 

Geulincx,  130. 

God,  Argument  for  the  Existence 

of,  Descartes',  62,  81  ;  Spinoza's, 

169,  188. 
Goethe,  148. 
Good,  229  et  seq. 
Good  and  Evil,  177. 
Greek  Culture,  13. 

Hamilton,  78. 
Hegel,  54. 
Herz,  209. 
Hildebrandism,  9. 
Hobbes,  138. 
Humanism,  19. 
Hume,  51,  53,  161. 
Huxley,  95,  97,  106,  125. 

Immortality,  238,  239. 
Induction,  44. 
Innate  Ideas,  56. 
Intellectual  Love  of  God,  236. 

Jacquieh,  32. 

Jesuit   Editors  of  Newton's  Prin- 

cipia,  32,  33. 
Joel,  37. 

Kant,  17,  44,  54,  92,  125,  209-211. 
Kelvin,  124. 
Kepler,  17. 

Knowledge,  Spinoza's  three  Kinds 
of,  217. 

Laplace,  125. 
Leibniz,  54,  122,  145. 
Le  Seur,  32. 
Lessing,  148. 
Locke,  54. 


Lu7nen  7iaturale,  67. 
LyeU,  122. 

Maimonides,  133. 
Malebranche,  131. 
Mansel,  78. 

Mathematics,  38,  40,  41. 
Maxwell,  Clerk,  212. 
Mechanism,  111  et  seq. 
Mersenne,  31. 

Method,  Rules  of,  38,  49,  149. 
Middle  Ages,  1,  2,  8,  9. 
Motion,  Laws  of,  112. 
Mysticism,  9,  10,  134. 

Natuka    naturans     and     Natura 

ncUurata,  197. 
Newton,    16,    32,    61,    113,    119, 

122. 
Nominalism,  10. 

Occasionalism,  130  i^assim. 
Oldenburg,  141,  143. 
Organism,  108,  109. 

,,         and  Environment,  108. 

Philo-Jud^us,  133. 
Pleasure  and  Pain,  226  et  seq. 
Pollock,  Sir  Frederick,  146. 
Polo,  Marco,  15. 
Polytheism,  5. 
Ptolemy,  16. 

Realism,  10. 

Reality,  Objective,  114. 

Reformation,  12,  19,  20. 

Renaissance,  12-15,  20,  134. 

Repentance,  227. 

Romanist,  34. 

Royal  Society,  143. 

St.  Paul,  182. 
Schiller,  148. 
Schleiermacher,  132,  148. 
Schopenhauer,  54. 
Scholasticism,  7,  11. 
Scholastic  System,  21. 
Self-consciousness,  43,  49,  86. 
Self-determination,  85. 
Spencer,  Herbert,  54,  78,  118. 


INDEX 


245 


Spinoza,  a  Jew,  130  ;  his  Birth, 
136  ;  his  Education,  137  ;  Rup- 
ture with  the  Synagogue,  138  ; 
Residence  at  Rhynsburg,  140  ;  at 
Amsterdam,  141  ;  Preparation  of 
his  Works,  143  ;  Offer  of  a  Pro- 
fessorship, 144  ;  his  Manner  of 
Life,  145,  146  ;  his  Death,  148  ; 
De  Intellectus  JSmeiidatione,  149 
et  seq.;  Ex2)osition  of  the  Car- 
tesian Philosojyhy  and  the  Cogi- 
tatio  Mstaphysica,  167  et  seq.; 
the  Ethics,  the  First  and  Second 
Books,  187  et  seq. ;  the  last 
Three  Books,  205  et  seq. 

Substance,  72  et  passim. 


Sub  specie  seternitatis,  236-238  et 

passim. 
Synthesis,  42. 

Tait,  Professor,  113-116. 
Teleology,  Descartes',  107. 
Theology,  2. 

,,         Greek,  2. 

,,         Latin,  2. 

Understanding,    Spinoza's    Pro- 
perties of,  221,  225  et  seq. 

Van  Yloten,  159. 

Waed,  Dr.  James,  109,  110,  204. 


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